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Our Old Plate


Frank E Gibbard
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Frank E Gibbard

Our Old Plate

 

A piece of pottery of paltry worth

A paltry pun provoked our mirth,

By a family joke allied with poultry.

 

An old humble plate hardly unique

Of uncertain date knocking antique,

No Keats' urn nor a thing for poetry.

 

But serving well from first to the last

A solid reminder of Christmases past,

This platter still matters much to me.

 

The stonewear blue and white plate

Until high days would just hibernate,

Christmas or Easter were its apogee.

 

Atop a dresser I recall you'd wait dustily

As oven sizzled, my sister scaled lustily,

Bless her, lowering you hale and sure.

 

Turkey on plate, as children waited

Eventually pinafored Dad operated,

We the ones who gobbled gleefully.

 

That plate evokes the finest of blokes,

Dad, Mum and two brothers, spokes

From a wheel gone, but still spinning.

 

Here in London our dear old festive plate

You've been more than steady me old mate,

As I espy you up there, is that grinning?

 

To assess your worth, how do you rate?

Not much very dosh I'd guesstimate

No, wealth of sentiment's your underpinning.

 

Memories of enjoying happy days

They are imprinted there in the glaze,

Heritage the gist of you to treasure.

 

History engrained for every calory you contained,

Each rivulet of grease as ever stained your face

Runs through you, marking time's sweet place,

It's been a pleasure.

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

amazing how much sentiment and rheotric we put behind a ordinary household object, but yet the memories the simple memories it holds with yo is so dear,. awesome poem on so many levbels starting with yor verneclar choice of words. apllauding you for great poem frank.

 

victor

Larsen M. Callirhoe

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Frank E Gibbard

Most entertaining Frank; had a warm, celebratory note.

 

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Thanks badge.

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Frank E Gibbard

amazing how much sentiment and rheotric we put behind a ordinary household object, but yet the memories the simple memories it holds with yo is so dear,. awesome poem on so many levbels starting with yor verneclar choice of words. apllauding you for great poem frank.

 

victor

Thanks Larse, for your positive reaction.

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Aleksandra

Dear, Frank. This is so warm poem. I enjoyed the first half of the poem, a lot. It has an expected warmth - regarding the title. I am happy that I stopped by this poem. Thanks.

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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