That Old Broken Dansette & Other Musings

Today, of all days, I wonder
do you ever remember
those two, forget-me-not blue
cotton squares
that you took from your
grandmothers quilt, without
asking ..
Those you placed over the tear
in each knee, of my 501’s ..
Well I do,
and I also recall, each stitch that
you sewed ..
And how I marvelled at the
speed of your fingers
and the neatness of crosses
that you placed there in rows ..
Even now they
remind me of kisses, like those
I would place on
each lid, of your almond shaped
eyes, while you lay
dreaming, the best part of those
long Sunday mornings away ..
And don’t you
think it amazing, how we then
managed to learn every word
of both Cohen and Dylan by
repeatedly playing
each of their records, on an old
broken Dansette,
we found in a skip, somewhere
back in the day ..
Oh’ and believe me, my darling
but I would be lying
if I denied, ever wondering, if you
ever wondered ..
Like I do, whatever happened to
that thing ..
And, to the two of us, by the way ..