Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Last Tango With Cookie Tin

Something akin to a painting whose title might be : Still Life With Cookie Tin , this is a Last Tango With Cookie Tin, and this is in fact the cookie tin in question, which once contained cookies guaranteed to be made with pure butter !

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Last Tango at Trorozec

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The last time we went to Trorozec
Was after the fire had ravaged the roof
The fire brigade poured so much water
Through the flaming windows
That all the plaster fell off all the walls
Even on the lower floors that didn’t burn
It was a disaster

We were able to enter
Someone had pried a plank off
One of the ground floor boarded up windows
We climbed in and poked around
Went up the treacherous stairs
To the third floor that had burned
A temporary roof had been hastily erected
To keep the rain out
But in truth there wasn’t much left to save
Might as well just tear it all down
Start from scratch
.
It had been a beautiful old home
Not quite a chateau but almost
Many generations of distinguished family
Had grown and lived there
Acres and acres of woods around it
A chapel and long stone barn
Long ago it had been a fortified farm
Now it was a ruin
.
In the desolate kitchen
Where cupboards had been stripped
From the walls
Even the sink had been stolen
I picked up the top of a tin cookie box
That lay in a corner neglected
I liked the picture on it
Although it was nothing special
.
Going back through the reception hall
In one corner stood the old piano
A pitiful ghost of what it once had been
Too heavy no doubt to carry off
Damaged by the deluge of water
From the fire hoses
Missing ivory keys where they’d been pried off
A toothless grin in the dark shuttered room

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For no good reason
I took the top of the cookie tin
Which I was still carrying
And dragged it across the piano strings
To my amazement
It made a wonderful roar
I did it again and cacophonous sound
Burst forth and filled the hall
Bouncing off the four walls
Incredibly loud
.
I kept dragging
The metal across the strings
As fast as I could
Each swipe amplified
The totally non-musical din
But it was wonderful
Better than any orchestra
This was my opera
Dedicated to Trorozec
After the fire
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With my cookie tin and ruined piano
I roared out a world of woe
That echoed and roiled around me
I could have gone on for hours but
Finally my daughter came
And told me to stop
I was scaring her
And her sister
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So I stopped and the sound died
Silence filled the space again
The smell of soot and damp plaster
Hung heavy in the air
The piano was just a shadow
In the corner
As we climbed back out
And went on our way
After the last tango
At Trorozec

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