White China

It glints in the sun
pure unalloyed
breakfast in the garden
with a silver spoon

Our unexpected stay
with an unexpected aristocrat
who served us food and stories
Wedgewood and old England

Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond

A poem prompted by Twiglets, telling of a weekend long ago when we drove west on a whim and, at dusk, found Bed and Breakfast in a Thatched cottage. Our hostess was very grand, very friendly and completely charming.

Breakfast was served with old Wedgewood crockery and solid silver cutlery that we will never be able to afford to buy. “Oh it came from GrandMama” she said, “from the big house. Don’t worry if you break anything my dears, I have thirty of each. There used to be more…..”

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