A history of spoons
There are spoons in my drawers
that served throughout the wars,
spooning jam onto china plates
as the bombs fell.
Silver hallmarks rubbing shoulders
with stainless-steel Sheffield
belching smoke and steam-forged
Glory years of no more wars
and a June wedding.
Jostling through the years
Tea-towel dried and Dish-washer drowned,
Thrown in and out of packing cases.
Laid gently on celebration tables
and invalid trays
storing up their stories.
Nestling together at night
as lovers spoon and set the world to rights,
Holding their secrets.