Syon Christmas

Blue.
Bamboo and clatter.
Listen and response.
David Pen is poised.
Words on a page.

Plaster roses between the fruit.
Redwine and synthetic sweetcorn.
Honi Soit.

Cream gateau with coffee

Impressions paint a picture

Christmas Syon



Sunday November 6th in anticipation of a report on a lump in my breast, I sat and had lunch at Syon House cafe. It is a little more upmarket than an ordinary café as it is part of a stately home that prides itself on its Christmas displays and also its arts and crafts fairs. They had kites in the Christmas display hall and I wanted so much to see my friend David and invite him to have tea with me there. Kites were a special delight to him and he really loved the film Mary Poppins. I always found that a strange choice but I can see now, in retrospect, that he was rather a Mary Poppins figure. I wrote this piece whilst waiting for my meal to arrive. I remember everything seemed so surreal and somehow larger than life. On the 7th November David killed himself. He was just twenty-three. On the 8th they told me I had nothing to worry about.
Today would have been his birthday.