MONOCHROME DAYS

Monochrome Days

In my salad days

When I was fresh and new, everything was black and white.

We listened to Dan Dare, or the Black Museum,

Black and white pictures formed in our heads.

In times of the wireless,

It gave much to an atmosphere.

Black and White shoes whilst walking in snow,

An absolute delight with our black and white dog.

A black and white cat, curled sleeping by a black hearth.

A black and white newspaper lay folded on a black table.

Black and White Minstrels

Performed on the wireless.

Around a black-lead range, we’d huddle for comfort,

Flaming wicks from white candles lit up the gloom.

Spiralling wisps of black smoke, a smell of candle-wax,

A burned match, turned to charcoal, lay in an ashtray.

Black and white photographs

On mantelshelf and walls.

In freezing days of winter, white covered all,

While black and white skeletal trees stood tall.

In howling winds, a black crone’s finger beckoned,

Clawed black bones reached out to grab us.

A sound of creaking branches

Made us feel haunted.

Schooldays of blackboards with white chalk writing,

White rulers and erasers, black ink in inkwells.

A black piano-stool where Miss Black used to sit

To play black and white keys on a black piano.

When the sky became black at night,

It was full of shiny white holes.

In my salad days when I was fresh and new,

Black and white birds would visit my garden.

My whole world was painted in black and white,

When I close my eyes, I’m back in monochrome heaven.

Josie Smith