A SHAMELESS SNAP

tobacco tin

Fatalism comes as second nature

To the impetuous kingfisher

‘Slim pickings today’ from

The once racing, as of now

Still water brook, ‘Whatever’

Just a fleeting thought before

Broadening his ‘touch and go’

Exploration for sustenance elsewhere

And the bird is gone in the

Blink of an eye

 

Unpacking his belongings the

Newcomer discovers within an

Old pine domed chest steamer trunk

A beaten, musty and somewhat battered

Brass tobacco tin, embossed thereon a

Depiction of Princess Mary and bearing the

Date ‘Christmas 1914’. His grandfather’s?

 

Busying himself with more pressing tasks

He sets it aside for the time being

Not before shaking it just a little for

Curiosity’s sake and confirming that

Something lightweight lay within

 

Come the witching hour and now

Shattered from his travails he takes

Time out, pours himself a glass of

Beaujolais under a low hanging

Naked 60 watt lightbulb lets his

Palate savour the wines acceptable acidity

The tin catches both his eye and imagination

Delving within its contents a greetings card

‘With Best Wishes for a Happy Christmas

And a Victorious New Year, From

The Princess Mary and Friends at Home’

‘How little the princess knew in 1914’ his idle thought

 

Of more interest, a letter plus shameless snap

Both fraying at the edges, still readable and

Oozing with scarlet details of an affair, or perhaps

Merely paternal grandfathers quest for young love

 

That the target of his lustful affections, an actress

Was clear enough; that she seemed an airhead ingénue

A surprise for the old boy reportedly had

A sound head upon his fabled broad shoulders

The girl spoke of “That god awful play I ‘graced’

The biggest turkey ever, threats and accusations

Followed me, not that I was overly concerned

For one day the whole world shall know my name”

Plainly to the stupid, still water runs deep and

Checking her out on Google via smartphone

Not a single mention of ‘Daisy Fry’ having ever existed

 

What of the ‘au naturel’ photo clipped to her tome?

By Christ she was a looker and plainly under grandpas spell

Fair game and good luck to the old boy his final thought

Before dozing off holding the picture twixt forefinger and thumb

 

A thousand miles away in another hemisphere

Where spring had finally given up flirting with

His winter dominatrix and mountain streams

Bristled and bubbled, the wily kingfisher his

Belly at last full, catches the eye of a sweet dumpy little dish

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32 thoughts on “A SHAMELESS SNAP

    • I’m struggling to write anything presently though what with chaps with drills doing things and a wife trying to build a wardrobe and some unusual noises I can’t put my finger on. Oh for an afternoon of coffee served up by Svetlana – sadly Friday is her day off and also this new smartphone thing whistles like a distressed bird each and every time a message arrives…I shall throw it at the wall as I did my tablet thing…yes, that’s what I’ll do!

      • Listen Mike house moves steal the brain. Not just the move and the mess but the fact you then proceed to rip the guts out of a place. I have so struggled with my present book and case of minced brain however, last night I typed these two immortal words, the end. So you do get there eventually.

      • Oh I hope so – flat packed wardrobe that a sufficient an amount that the parts should all be there and actually fit. Wrong – my wife tells me (and she has made a number of these things over the years) that it is basically shite!

      • but is it bollixed or bolloxed? Sorry, had to ask. Re wardrobes…I am so not going to start re the one I ( big bold letters here) JUST LAID CARPET TILES AROUND cos the fecking (awfie polite …really mean to sort that vowel ) fecker could not be moved. End of.

      • You know DIY and me divorced several decades ago…the very mention of ‘flat pack’…carpets in any shape or form has me scurrying away at a rate of knots. I must say Shirley was so disappointed that she couldn’t make my domain perfect after hours and hours of work I think I shall spoil her today…maybe a new electric drill (joking) – it is always bolloxed in these parts yet it hardly matters if your dialect says bollixed…they both work

    • She knows not to let me near any practical projects as I am so very, very hopeless! Still can’t find the box with my shoes in – irksome issue…still it took her 48 hours to find the one with her knickers in so she ended up wearing mine! The cheek of it!

      • We’ve been spying on our new neighbours who’s just moved in too. The first 48things they carried with them are shoe boxes!
        I wouldn’t mind wearing my hubby’s knickers either.. what’s his is mine 😉 But imagine him wearing mine! Lol

      • I think Monty Python’s ‘I’m a Lumberjack’ covered that one…women’s clothing that is! As to the shoe boxes did you really have to tell me that! Such cruelty toward a shoe-less, destitute Englishman!

    • Well the lovely young Rachel I am mainly replying to this comment yet thank you for all the others, the reason being I’ve only gone and done my back in again and typing is painful this morning. How did I do it? Sleeping no less. For some reason I’ve slept for 7 hours for 5 nights in a row and over-rested the back – can you believe that. I almost want my insomnia back! Certainly I’ve missed my best ‘ether’ friend these past few weeks yet know you are as ‘busy as I don’t know what’ (a Devonian saying by the way) yet if you’re working hard and getting paid well you have to run with it. Lots of irksome little nagging bits and pieces that need doing here beyond the ones we already knew about but we are still liking it – I do have one funny tale to write up regarding George and the heating system which I hope to post sometime this week. The weather has been rubbish here for days now and I really must see the sun again soon – still can’t get to my box of shoes yet and the flat packed distressed pine triple I wardrobe I got for myself won’t fit together Shirley tells me and that is annoying. What of yourself though; how is everything going?

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