Philip’s reel to reel
King Cole and Reeves bound us
Yesterday’s high tech magnetic tape
Rotating digits counted
Noted in red-spined book
Labour’s hands finely copperplating
Words for future soirees
My ear to the speaker repeated and sang
Irish melodies and ballads
Baritone and childish soprano
Harmonising life then in music
In country walks
Woodsmoked potatoes
Memorised now in every bonfire
Leaves in a pierced drum
In freshest air and briskest walk
My too small hand in yours
Protected, directed
Loved
Simple
Loving memories
Gruff twinkled hazel eyes squinting against
Clayed tobacco. Condor moments.
Remembered in my senses
And soul