Lodestone

By finola scott

Island malts, crisp oatcakes.

Fridge stuffed with favourites:

tart crowdie, Cullen Skink,

ever the welcoming meal

Fairy lights and tinsel twinkling

Welcome, come on in.

Ironed sheets and cartoon hot-water bottles.

No spare rooms tonight.

 

Ends of bed, stockings sneaked in.

Stuffed full of childhood.

Broons’ annuals, Tunnock’s snowballs,

buttery tablet and tangerines toes.

Giggles murmuring through bedroom walls

My children - home for Xmas.

 

Wally Dugs beam from the mantelpiece.

Great Granny’s dinner set splendid

out of hibernation.

Dad’s corkscrew reliable as ever.

Love worn teddies snuggle content

in familiar arms again.

 

And, around the table

faces, freed from photo frames,

grin daft replies to cracker jokes.

Finish each other’s anecdotes.

The future chuckling from her high chair as

prodigals and wanderers navigate safely.

 

My house - a home again.