Sundayness.
Afternoon yawns below lulled cobble streets
as slow Sundayness calls all cottage people.
Coast-swept valley folk stretch best-clad legs
to hill-high chapels and heads
bend to pray as Sunday sea laps in summer,
milk-mild and rippleless
while fat hinterland whispers "Yes" to grass
ambles of un-hasty cattle
loath to quit pasture for stick-dry cow shed.
White azure wipes Sunday's sapphire sky
with fine haze as housewives
fold greasy aprons to revive post-dinner
languor alongside napping
males who full-bellied unbutton to snore
away, in belch-ridden dreams,
more creamy helpings of sweet fruit pie.
Sunday-dusk drifts in last need to linger
as kitchen gathers its family
Sunday-ness for sandwich supper of rich
weekend treats, then well-fed
togetherness blinks as clock-chimes show
Sunday-ways stop when hot
hob-black kettle cools last desire to sing.
As fire-glow dies tired souls climb worn steps
where sleep knows dawn means labour again.
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: February 22nd, 2021 04:45
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 31
Offline)
Comments7
Eyyup lass, worra-bout t'tin bath in front'a range? Sundee neet 'wo bath neet wi a nu cake o soap an a good towel rubbin. Mug a cocoa an t'bed.
Thems 'wo days chuck.
You paint a lovely picture of a screenplay in my mind. Your words - the patterned carpet upon which the play is enacted....... perhaps an Agatha Christie thriller about to unwind upon the morrows dawning.
You do paint some lovely scenes.
Wow D.A. - -- great that my verse raised some dialect mem'ries - those were the days eh ......
- -- thanks a load for your inventive comment on Sundayness.
another wonderful glimpse from your reservoir of comforting memory's dear Fay,
thanks for sharing such a warm read on a chilly morning
My pleasure to highlight such family togetherness and glad you enjoyed the read my friend.
Always mesmerizing images.
Gratitude for your visit and read of Sundayness dear Trenz - so glad you enjoyed the images.
The picture and poem remind me so much of the 60's, when life was so full of simple pleasures!
Yes those were the days Fred - - and where have those simple pleasures gone we all ask.
Warm and wonderful, Fay.
Wish I were there lying on the floor playing checkers with my sister.
It would be great to get those family games going again Jerry -- thanks for your comment on my take on Sundayness.
Wonderful words Fay, taking me back to those Sunday afternoons when I was a boy. (A very long time ago).
Andy
Brought back some grand memories and a tear to the eye, so ya did ..
Particularly poignant and poetically pertinent this Mothering Sunday ..
... My word .. how I do so miss mine .. Thank you for this Fay ......... Neville x
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