Love, Life and Death in a Teacup Read online

  Love, Life and Death in a Teacup

  Sarah Priest

  Austin Macauley Publishers

  Love, Life and Death in a Teacup

  About the Author

  About the Book

  Dedication

  Copyright Information

  Acknowledgements

  Part 1

  Moments

  Sunflower

  Mother

  September

  Raindrop Reflections

  Bête Noire

  Annie May

  Jasper

  My Beautiful Broad Beans

  Rose

  Yearning

  Pansy

  New Beginnings

  A Pot of Gold Lies Undisturbed

  Last Tree Standing

  Undisturbed

  Secret Rendezvous

  World’s End

  Entity

  By Your Side

  Christmas

  Brief Times

  Waiting

  Love Affair

  Farewell and Forever

  The Last Time

  Jealous Heart

  The Man That I Miss

  Forgotten Life

  How Many Times

  Summer

  In My Element

  The Light Is Failing

  Let Me Be

  Tomorrowland

  Emperor’s Clouds and Mist

  Love in a Teacup

  Part 2

  A Woman in a Tortoise Shell

  Clouds

  Devil in a Sponge

  Hope

  Life Is but a Blink of an Eye

  We Are Human

  Love It

  Monster in the Wardrobe

  Pensions

  Sick Water Tank

  Skyped Love

  Somewhere

  The Love Witch

  Tomato in a Cake Tin

  Sanctuary

  The Second-Hand Bookshop

  Death in a Teacup

  What Is Love?

  For All the Days

  Forever Lost

  I’ve Lost My Mum to Dementia

  About the Author

  Sarah Priest lives in Surrey. She always thought there was more to life than pensions. Her love of gardening, nature, films—especially sci-fi—and tea have greatly influenced her first collection of poems.

  About the Book

  Love, Life and Death in a Teacup is Sarah’s first collection of poems. It tells a story of hope, passion and loss, encompassing her sanctuary, the allotment, falling in love and watching the slow demise of her mother’s mind to dementia. All these moments in time have been savoured by the quintessential pastime of drinking tea.

  Dedication

  To the man I met the day the world was going to end.

  Copyright Information

  Copyright © Sarah Priest (2018)

  The right of Sarah Priest to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

  Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 9781788481021 (Paperback)

  ISBN 9781788481038 (Hardback)

  ISBN 9781788481045 (E-Book)

  www.austinmacauley.com

  First Published (2018)

  Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd™

  25 Canada Square

  Canary Wharf

  London

  E14 5LQ

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank Angela Brassett-Harknett, BSc (Hons) and MA (Hons), who helped me on my path to recovery and uncovered my hidden talent for writing poetry; I will be forever grateful.

  Chris for encouraging me to read, especially the classics; my big sister who has always been there for me, and my dad for looking after me.

  I would also like to thank the team at Austin Macauley for giving me this opportunity to publish my work and to share my new-found passion with others.

  Part 1

  Moments

  “Hello babe,” he smiled at me

  As I looked into his deep brown eyes

  We could have been anywhere

  Chatting away like old friends

  Yet, we were at the supermarket checkout isle!

  He passed me my shopping; as I put it away

  He had no interest in what he was doing and neither did I

  I did not know his name and he did not know mine

  Just sharing a few moments until we said goodbye.

  Sunflower

  Bright and bold, upright you stand

  Like soldiers on parade so grand

  Your head’s held high, looking down on us all

  Who knows what will befall!

  Butterflies and bees are drawn to your centre

  To reap the delights of your tantalizing nectar

  You shine so bright with a smile on your face

  You look so proud, full of grace

  When summer’s end is nigh, your heads droop

  And it’s time to say farewell to the troop

  Your petals fade, wither and die

  Your seeds ripen and I hear you cry

  Birds come pecking to feast on your treats

  You keep on giving till autumn retreats

  Frost makes you crumble, you fall at my feet

  And return to the earth to sleep

  When spring comes around where your seeds have lain

  Tiny shoots emerge to begin the cycle again.

  Mother

  A sorrowful sight my mother

  who once was a foreboding figure

  She sits on the bed like a lost child, staring into space

  who knows what she is thinking.

  At the moment, she remembers me, but the day may come when she no longer does.

  I see the fear in her eyes, what shall I do; she is my mother after all, but she refuses help saying nothing is wrong, yet it is plain to see by us all.

  Her memory is fading, she is afraid; I wish she would open up and let me in

  I am here for her now as she once was for me,

  the role reversed I can see

  The mother becomes the child and the child a parent.

  I hug her goodbye, “Take care,” I say

  Who knows if she will remember me, come the next day.

  September

  I sit and look out on my plot

  Courgette plants with their mildewed leaves

  Runner beans climbing still,

  their tips swaying like snakes in the grass

  Blackberries plump and juicy, ready to burst

  Bees cling to lavender to get the last drop of nectar

  A lowly butterfly flits about in the breeze

  Rotten apples on the ground

  full of woodlice and millipedes

  Oh, how I love September,

  the sun so warm and the sweet smells that linger

  only this month can bring

  My thoughts turn to winter as I gaze upon my

  cabbages, leeks and kale

  Lovely stews and soups to make

  as my mouth begins to water

  Now I am content as the hazy sun shines down

  and I drift off to sleep...

  Raindrop Reflections

  Drip, drip, drop the rain />
  Falling from the heavens

  Captured on the branches

  Of inky woven cobwebs

  Silhouetted by the streetlamp

  The boughs glisten and gleam

  As tiny droplets dangle

  And illuminate the tree

  The gusty wind is blowing

  As the twigs shiver and shake

  Eerie faces in the darkness

  Make me quiver and quake

  Winter isn’t over

  It’s only just begun

  Several months still to go

  Before the warmth of the sun

  The rain keeps falling

  As I sit and stare

  Thankfully, I am inside

  In the comfort of my chair!

  Bête Noire

  Silently you come

  Disguised by a purity second to none

  Your uniqueness unquestionable

  As you blanket the earth in just a few hours

  Sins covered under a duvet of white

  And now my view amorphous

  You look so pretty and peaceful undisturbed,

  but before too long, footprints spoil your serenity

  The air is still and cold

  Your lifeless colour does nothing for my soul

  You are my bête noire.

  Annie May

  Annie May is 18 today

  Hip hip hooray!

  All grown up with the key to the door

  It’s time to go out and explore.

  A holiday to Spain, your first port of call

  With your friends having fun by the pool

  No parents in sight to drive you ’round the bend

  And tell you when the fun has to end.

  Do you remember the first book we gave you?

  Full of nursery rhymes, stories and fables

  Your love of reading has inspired me so

  From Shakespeare to the Philosopher’s Stone.

  So I bet you were pleased when you got

  Your Saturday job at the Beckenham bookshop,

  It sure beats digging your dad’s allotment plot!

  We had fun playing games, but for me

  Your claim to fame has to be when you beat Uncle Chris at chess

  But of course he was drunk, so not at his best

  So he believes it doesn’t count anyway!

  Your gigs to Maiden are just the start

  Of a rock ‘n’ roll teenager at heart

  With a musical soul, I hear you’re heading to the Festival at Reading

  At least you’re used to camping

  Through the mud and rain you’ll be tramping

  Have fun, Annie May and congratulations on becoming 18 today!

  Jasper

  Jasper was a lovely dog

  A black and white Collie

  I had always been afraid of dogs

  But Jasper helped me overcome it

  He greeted me with such enthusiasm

  Jumping up and down

  Barking away, until I told him to calm down

  Sometimes I dog-sat

  And I remember this one time

  I took him to his local lake

  To have a run-around

  He was very well behaved

  And obeyed my every call

  Until I reached the stream

  And sternly said to Jasper, “No!”

  I turned my back for just a minute

  And noticed he had gone

  And when I peered down the bank

  There he was, having fun

  Splashing about in the water

  Getting a muddy coat

  ‘Oh no,’ I thought, ‘what a mess!’

  Jasper, ‘what have you done?’

  He looked up at me with a wry smile

  He didn’t care, he had his fun

  And mucked about

  While his parents weren’t there

  I hurried back to the car

  Jasper all smelly and wet

  He plonked himself on the blanket

  And I didn’t hear a peep

  To my surprise, he’d licked himself clean,

  by the time I’d got home

  I was so relieved that I didn’t have to hose him down

  I have many memories of Jasper

  who sadly passed away

  But whenever I see a Border Collie,

  it reminds me of that day!

  My Beautiful Broad Beans

  They’d survived the cold, the frost, the snow, the creatures of the night

  Nestled in their furry jackets, they could not have known their plight.

  Luscious leaves on stocky stems reaching for the sky

  Patiently, I watched them grow as the days went by.

  Devastation and destruction, I could not believe the scene

  Aphids, had attacked my beautiful broad beans!

  No warning sign was given, no defence put in place

  Every orifice had been tarnished by this remorseless race.

  They don’t know when to stop and multiply on mass

  Their only friend of the insect world, the fiendish ant.

  They lure them to their abode with a sweet sticky drug

  So the ants will protect them from all the other bugs.

  In my heartfelt anger, I put on my gloves

  Got hold of those diseased leaves and squished those nasty bugs.

  The ants fought back attacking my boots

  As if a commander-in-chief had deployed his troops.

  When I finally came up for air, I had a breather and sat in my chair

  I stared at my beans all sooty and black, it seemed incredibly unfair!

  I guess it taught me a lesson, if my beans look good enough to eat

  Best to cover them in fleece, otherwise the bugs will be waiting for their feast!

  Rose

  Her velvet touch and pinkish hue

  An aroma of mystery and romance

  To gaze upon a rose in bloom

  Is a special kind of magic.

  I’ve danced amongst her silky petals

  In all my frills and finery

  As her heady scent filled the air

  ’Twas a delight for all my senses.

  Her love is deep and crimson red

  Her sorrow, a snow-white blossom

  Yet beneath her shining emerald shawl

  Lies a sharp and thorny present!

  She clambers up the walls and fences

  Or stands tall for all to see

  And when her tight buds unfurl

  Her true beauty can be seen.

  When autumn turns to winter

  And her last petal falls

  I shall keep the memories within

  Until summer returns once more.

  Yearning

  I sit across an empty table; my heart beats, not yearning, solitude can be refreshing; no music or TV to drown out my thoughts, peaceful one might say. Yet, a loss is present, engulfs me almost. I choose to do nothing, knowing the heartache already. I can’t help but wonder, to find the spark that lights from within, if just for a fleeting moment and feel the passion once more...

  Pansy

  Colours, so many, vibrant and bright

  Cheer up a gloomy day, when the sun is out of sight

  They bob in the breeze, those paper thin petals

  Softer than silk where hoverflies settle

  Pansies for summer, winter and spring

  They top off a salad, what a wondrous thing!

  Faces all painted look up to the sky

  Smiling away as the clouds roll by

  Sweet smelling Pansy you light up my life

  Glad to have your company as the years pass by.

  New Beginnings

  It is a sad day for me today

  Now that you are finally moving away

  All the good times I’ve had in your Supra and TVR driving mad

  Fun evenings at the Chelsea Cruise

  Watching Tottenham win or lose!

&nb
sp; A Christmas each year full of fun

  My parents loved you as a son.

  Our family will never be the same

  Let’s hope we have not suffered in vain

  Several years on, some of the heartache gone

  A new life you’ll have by the sea

  Where you can relax in the sun and enjoy a cream tea.

  That just leaves me to say farewell

  On this note, I will not dwell

  I shall miss you very much

  Hope all goes well and good luck.

  A Pot of Gold Lies Undisturbed

  For every rose that blooms, a petal falls

  For every star that dies, a supernova is born

  For every morning sun, there appears a midnight moon

  For every raindrop that falls, a river flows

  For every wind that blows, clear skies will follow

  For every forest burnt, new life springs forth

  For every rainbow that lights the sky, a pot of gold lies undisturbed

  For every baby born, a loved one dies

  For every lie told, a truth is hidden

  For every heart broken, true love finds a way.

  Last Tree Standing

  Sad, alone amongst the concrete and glass

  All my friends have gone

  Once we stood together in our younger days

  Outstretched fingers swaying in the breeze

  Harsh winters and warm summers

  We enjoyed each other’s company

  Sometimes, I would be overshadowed

  Knocked about in the wind

  But still the familiarity was a comfort

  They were always there beside me

  The skyline began to change

  Menacing machines appeared on the outskirts

  Walls began to climb

  Our roots torn from the earth

  Trees in the distance no more

  Sadness swept over me

  Disease set in, severe winters

  Snow covered the ground

  The weight on my branches became too much

  They snapped lying dead on the floor

  Spring still came and summer once more

  My leaves hid the scars from the outside world

  But the wound’s still fresh