Wicker Chair

Alone in a corner, slumped In my dead grandfather's wicker chair, On a winters night, with only a splash of moonlight, giving Illumination to my cares. It felt alien to me. In solace, in the dark, without the Company of a loving woman,or words of Reassurance from a family friend -Friends to the End. What fragments of the past emerged from the concious stream Of thought! Memories stacked like domino's, cast in my Minds mind, with the same black and white spots, Some many, some few. We walk along the Roman wall in Chester, my Father's face Filled full, with the guilt Of a man about to leave his children, The last time I would walk with him for many a year. Then, the crashing sound of a mirror smashed with anger, or Perhaps regret, over his head. Suppose my Mother wished him Dead, the first of many incidents, lined with regret and Words that should never have been said. I blinked for a moment. I thought I could hear the distant Calling of an owl in my wake. The darkness enveloped the night time cityscape, And I sighed as I lit another cigarette. Relaxing once more, I hear a knock on Mothers door. The Sound of cheap leather shoes treading her lino kitchen Floor, my step-father now enters the scene, to play my Daddy-a bit too keen. He tried his best, but not to any luck. Frankly I couldn't give a flying fuck! The pretentious musings of a moody teenager maybe, but throwing punches, was not quite for me. At first he made us laugh, but not for long did the Laughter last. My Mother watched, a rye grin on her face, As my 'step-daddy' squared up to me in all of its Unrivalled disgrace. Who was he, to knock my dreams? My lips are parched as I take a sip of the water, That patiently sits upon the tabletop In a tacky old Disney cup. Lost innocence, in me? Maybe. Maybe. I'm whisked away through the 'skippy', enchanted woods of a Love now lost. Still a young boy, her a young girl, driven Together from different worlds. Oh how the years ticked by! But love turned to dust under a cold winter sky, It was over. 'I love you no more', but to tell you the Truth, as I walked out that door, the wave of unhappiness And depression, un-shackled itself, giving way to new Light, new life. Much too late to stay awake, amidst the stars, sewn on like Sequins to the deep black sky, Who knows why? Why life throws the many trials that it Does-love, tears, happiness or lust, Standing from the chair, I leave my memories there, The Grandfather who had passed, the Father who didn't last, The Mother I fled fast, The Woman rooted in my past. The Wife, I once knew, but quickly outgrew And the memories of a thousand different people I had met within the trio of decades I had so far lived. This chair is but a relic, Of times of pain and anguish. While I move into pastures New with a brighter view, And with one whom it is easier to say: 'I love you' All I need is the one I love, And the stars up above, the world and its beauty, The sincerity of love, like The opened bonnets of summer Foxglove, The fresh fragrant breeze, and the quiet buzzing of bees, For everyday is a summers day from now on, No longer bound in that chair, deep in thought, released From a past so desperate and fraught.