Nan

'Will you pull a cracker?'
In my unseeing mind I turn
to see the face of over 80 yuletide seasons.
Teeth now stained with port wine,
above which dangles a faint moustache
of Irish stout.

Hair thinning, taking leave
before every smile
and those ears of
a thousand costume diamantes
reluctant to hear beyond the distance
of her loving arms.

Inside the lady, burned a
fire of irony with flames of resignation.
Waiting to turn her corner

and then she went.
Leaving all her life inside
a miniature pack of playing cards
and a ‘joke’ that still brings a tear.

Nice one Darren

allow me the luxury of an old chestnut

It was in that Celebrity Big Brother
That all the furore began
But ever since Jade called Shilpa, "Poppadom"
I've stopped calling my grandma, "Nan".

Good one Dave - it reminds me I must stop calling Mr Crompton Pitta!

'Teeth now stained with port wine,
above which dangles a faint moustache
of Irish stout.'

I like this image. Quite scary actually, yet comic and loving, showing her homely vices.