St Stephens Day at Pery House, a poem by Glynn Sinclare at Spillwords.com

St Stephens Day at Pery House

St Stephens Day at Pery House

written by: Glynn Sinclare

@chitanclare

 

A happy day, a party
at the maiden Aunt’s in Pery Square.
Necks scrubbed. Hair washed,
Red ribbons and glowing faces,

The door to Pery house was large,
Green and shiny,
the knocker ornate, gleaming like gold.
My little hand, went in the letter box,
to find a key, dancing on a string,

Daddy open wide the door.
The hall well lit, large and square.
Aunts appeared from every where,
with hugs and kisses.

To the back sitting room, we were led
to see the crib and say a prayer.
A tableau told the story,
of kings and shepherds,
parents and a baby in a manger.

Then to the dining room,
to pay homage to the aunts
and uncles’ wives.
“How big you have grown.”
“What class are you in now.”

Around the fire,
the gathering of the clan.
All seated in honoured places,
broadly smiling, Sherry in hand,
pleasantries completed.

The call went out, to do a turn,
a song, a poem, an Irish dance.
Pride lit up the mammies’ eyes,
with nods and smiles to Aunties,
when their child excelled.

When my turn came, I froze,
My Mammy eyed me sternly.
I am a little Tea Pot short and stout.
All were content, loud clapping,
I escaped for yet another year

I lingered in the back hall, in a daze.
Gazing up, through a spiral staircase.
Four flights high to the celling,
dimly lit, dark and scary.

Cousins melted, into the shadows,
hiding in the nooks and crannies,
sliding on the banisters.
Laughter rang out, as Aunts called.
“Come down from there, you will hurt yourself.”
“What are you doing up there.”

At last the call to supper came
and to the kitchen we descended.
The door unlocked, the ceilings high
the kitchen sprung to life,

A table laid to our delight.
Time for us to look about.
As Coloured lights, burned bright.
Enormous kettles boiling,
pot with pudding bubbling.

Moulded jellies quivering,
in colours of the rainbow.
Homemade Soda breads
brown, white, and spotted dog.

Silver Salted Beef, Ham and turkey.
Salads, beetroot and gherkins.
Bottles of Lemonade and Orange,
Pots of Tea.
Hot Plum Pudding,
Ice Cream and custard.

The crowning glory was the Cake,
centre stage upon the table
a white snowy mountain
Christmas trees of green.
Sleighs with little boys and girls.
Mirrored pools for skaters,
encrusted in a cloud of silver beads.

The supper downed with much delight,
complements to Aunties Flew about.

Then sleepy children,
helped with hats and coats,
sent homeward bound,
with hugs and kisses
and Waves from Aunties,
on the steps of Pery Square.

And now it’s time for us to dream,
of feasts fit for a king or queen,
and of the good and kind,
devoted Aunts of Pery House.

Glynn Sinclare

Glynn Sinclare

I am a Limerick Author poet. I have written three books in three years. For me I am rewarded with the achievement of holding these books in my hand. The Emigrants 2017, Poetics Book of 100 poems 2018 and Poetics Book of Poems Volume 2 released September 2019. I write under the pen name Glynn Sinclare AKA Clare Glynn Chitan. My poetry has been read on several audio poetry radio shows of American poet Tamara Miles “Where the light must fall” Broadcast by Spiritplants Radio and Alan Johnson “The World Comes to you”.
Glynn Sinclare

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