Patterns In The Wood Grain

Uncle Ted spells newspaper headlines to his niece
As he spreads his toast with butter.
“Malcolm has come in last again,” he says,
“Fifty quid straight down the gutter.”

Our tough, soldier Mum cooks lunch for the in-laws,
Dousing salads with strong vinaigrette.
She seasons the meat with rock salt and pepper,
Whilst roasting the chunks of courgette.

At six years old, in her own little world,
Daisy has nothing to worry, no reason to complain.
Before the table is set, she traces her fingers
Over the patterns in the wood grain.

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