Aunty Glad

Day 12: " Amarjit Chandan has a pretty wild biography, but his poetry is often focused on place and memory – with his hometown of Nakodar appearing repeatedly. His poem “Uncle Mohan Singh” recounts, with a sort of dreaminess, a memory of the titular uncle playing the accompaniment to a silent film. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write your own poem that recounts a memory of a beloved relative, and something they did that echoes through your thoughts today."

Sundays are always a rush,  to get things done before I go over to see my son and grandkids. Today is even more important as it's the youngest's 9th birthday.  I'm reminded of the childhood Sundays we spent round my aunt's, and the generosity she always showed her nieces.  She had a tragic start in life, losing her husband and miscarrying their child, but I  remember her always being as cheerful as her name would imply. She introduced me to my first husband, and without her I'd not have had my children, or indeed the grandchildren I'm about to visit.  


Aunty Glad

There were always treats.
The fluffy bear with radio hidden inside,
The jewellery box which played a tune,
The Sunday roast chicken,
Lemon meringue pie from a box,
The shopping trips, where if you admired anything
Out came her purse and it was yours,
Teenaged Fridays movie nights
Sharing giant bars of Dairy Milk.

She gave me so much. A husband. Children.
The love and kindness she could not give her own.


© Copyright 2026. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

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