Just For You Poetry

The bowl filled with hot water
the dishes and cutlery from lunch
await my attention;

But back then
in the days of sixties summers the
beaches beckoned;

A squeeze of the green stuff
to keep my hands as soft as my face,
the glasses first followed by the plates,
careful not to over-do the coarse green back
of the sponge on the china;

And us
hand in hand with our rolled up jeans
strolling where the sea meets sand;

Knives followed by the forks followed
by the spoons and as I look out of the
window the martins fly to and fro
feeding their young;

I can still hear
the noise of gulls and the whooshing of
waves as we ran sideways up the
pebbles trying to avoid getting soaked;

“Where are the clean tea towels” I ask, and
you call out “In the top draw on the right”
When I´ve finished this we´ll sit outside
with a glass of red; funny how our taste
changes over the years;

In those days of sunshine and sand between toes
it would have been Blue Nun or Mateus Rose
and the washing up…
was probable the last thing on our minds.