When she was just three Sick on the cushions – bright green! North Berwick vividly adorned with horseplay and lore. A blue cloudless sky in the days of the war A father who smelt of engines and cigars. Knowledge in every field, no exceptions or dues Physiotherapy and nursing in Ediburgh’s view. The border crossed and new experience lurked, A teacher with a sports car and penchant for getting sunburnt. Then the border twice over When two became a source Of four, and then ten and now five great grandchildren more Rooted in 131 Stirling Drive; Home of hijinks and snowballs through the blinds. Tales of clothes exchanges Of first meetings and last Of experimental cooking And the jungles of plants and cats. The armchairs the place they’re imagined the best, Granny and Grandpa where they found their rest. Space for a small child or two A guinea pig or three Maybe a terrapin eating a sizeable leaf. Glasses gone missing; Lipstick askew; Fluffy jumpers But always enough space for two. Tales as tall as the stack of books behind Woven together in a novel bind, Collections and fragments and a voice to be heard We’ll always remember the way the stories unfurled. Foxes well fed for the week ahead Homes for all cats to find a comforting bed Names for the robins, the mice and the toad No small thing forgotten, from their humble abode. Daphne, the name of the laurel tree Freedom at last with the larks and the bees Reunited now with her dearly beloved Whether Grandpa, Brandy or Whisky we cannot judge!