I think it’s safe to say that our home
wasn’t quite normal.
There were always injured birds
around the house, like the
cormorant who sat quietly
in the living room whilst you
expertly removed oil from its feathers.
Placid until it saw Niagara falls
on the box and then all pandemonium
broke loose as it tried to enter the television.
On most days you were as glamorous
as a Costa Rican summer. Red and pink
lipsticks lay like sweet fruits
in your bedroom but on other days
your hair was wild and your clothes
dirty as you dug up the spuds from the
garden and prepared giant whale
marrows which competitors
eyed jealously in the local show.
You cooked the vegetables you
grew but more often than not Dad
and I just stared with incomprehension
at the impenetrable U.F.O.s that
landed with a hefty thud on our plates.
What great pictures this conjures up, Di, and humour and affection too. The conversational tone really suits it Perhaps a bit of tightening here and there? ‘On the box’ in the first stanza could be cut.. maybe you don’t need both ‘giant’ and ‘whale’ in the 2nd. And perhaps a look at some of the line endings… not sure about ending on ‘the’ and ‘that’… Great poem!