The Gravy Boat Martin Parsons The gravy boat is green Denby green Something Granny always loved Hideous really, unfashionable But more than this It is a boat of memories Poured out and refilled, Ending and unending Grandpa cooked That was law But sometimes, once in a while We helped him work Hunkered and held fast To giant capons as he tore out tendons Or licked bowls clean— “Delicious, Grandpa!” His last joke still draws A last laugh, sad though “If you just flew in to see me, Where are your wings?” Now it’s all crockery and cutlery And boxes of books Blue Peter annuals ‘65-’98 Free to a good home. But the gravy boat That’s special. If you hold it just right Imagining not your hands But his, grand paws, Shaking slightly and well-worn But sure and strong still Denby hands.
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