Emergency Minivering

But this time, at any rate, she was safe.

There was the house,

as neat and friendly as ever,

facing her as she turned the corner of the square. . .

Except that the house has had at least one window

missing for every day of the last week.

And inside is far from neat and friendly,

because more than a century's worth

of grime, soot and brick dust

has been released into the house,

and deposited on every naked surface, 

meaning that,

'the feel of door handles and light-switches,

the shape and texture of the bannister-rail under one's palm;

minute tactile intimacies,

has mainly consisted of grit.

The key does not turn sweetly in the lock

because builders do not believe in closing doors

and prefer an unimpeded passage through the building site

which is what your home has become.

All the furniture is shifted from room to room as they progress

and I cannot at present access

my writing-table with the letters that have come for me this morning

or the

three new library books lying virginally on the fender stool

their bright paper wrappers unsullied by subscriber's hand.

So I did the only thing possible to mitigate this discomfort,

which I know to be only temporary

and ultimately a Good Thing

because we will have a warmer winter as a result of this work,

I bought three

chrysanthemums of the 

big mop-headed kind,

burgundy-coloured, (not quite)

with curled petals. . .

and if I can clear a path through the debris

I might even make myself a Miniver tea:

honey sandwiches, brandy snaps,

and small ratafia biscuits;

and there would, she knew, be crumpets.

 but if not I can at least listen to this,
the missing piece from Mrs Minver's jig-saw puzzle,

the familiar sound of the Wednesday barrel-organ,
playing with a hundred apocryphal trills and arpeggios,
the Blue Danube waltz.

There is no clock 
on the mantlepiece to chime

very softly and precisely, five times

but there is certainly

a sudden breeze bringing the sharp tang
of  a bonfire in at the (gaping) window

because my neighbour has purloined the old windows
to burn in his stove.