The Black Sunbeam

 

It sat resplendent outside the front of the house

as it graced a dowdy neighbourhood with unrivalled elegance

It gleamed with layers of intense black polish

to announce its nobility and modernity

 

Along the street for those who did not own cars, yet some did

an intermittent array of other cars stood in awkward uniformity

They ranged from pre to post war models with a common factor

nearly all were black

 

For my father his Sunbeam was a source of pride

it received a loving attention few people ever achieved

He washed and polished it every Sunday afternoon

the smell of leather up holstery pervaded the car's interior

 

It was used for work and family outings

not a stain or blemish sullied its fine exterior

My father drove with my mother in the passenger seat

my brother, sister and I sat huddled in the rear 

 

Suitcases,trunks, rugs and a picnic hamper were stored in the boot

the trafficators often failed but with a steady thump from Mum

soon released their dim yellow light

as we manoueuvred our way along the A and B roads across the land

 

My father played the part of the aristocrat

attired in a tweed suit and brown leather gloves

The car was his and his alone

after years in the jungle fighting the Japanese, this was his reward, his prize

 

Running Boards and two large headlamps accentuated its lines

it easily managed to turn heads as it sped by

No praise was sought, no accolade given

this vehicle was indeed a limousine in its own right