Message in a Bottle
A Poem to an Absent Soul
She wrote, through salty spray and tears
A poem to an absent soul
Those beach filled summers, long ago
Assured, her memories will never fade
A splash, a sparkle, a glint of glass
Another journey,
Destination unknown
(C) Jean Rodmell 30-09-2008
Dear Dad
I switched the kettle on and then put the coffee and sugar into a cup. While I waited for the water to boil I took the bottle from my coat pocket and placed it on the table. I had returned from a brisk walk on the beach, it was a cold winters day although the sun had shone bright|y I felt chilled to the bone.
It was there while I was kicking the pebbles I had come across the clear glass bottle , I picked it up to bin it but the paper scrolled up neatly inside had caught my attention. I was inquisitive to know what was in the bottle so I pushed it deep into my pocket to open on my return home.
The steam poured from the spout of the kettle and clicked itself off automatically. I poured the water into the cup added a splash of milk and sat at the round pine table looking earnestly at the glass bottle.
What would I find inside if I did unscrew the cap? What if it was a personal letter? I couldn't make up my mind whether to leave it or open it: I sat for a little while pondering the consequences. In the end I decided I couldn't possibly leave the questions I asked myself left unanswered, so with some hesitation, I grabbed the bottle ready to look at its contents.
The palms of my hands now felt very warm and sweaty. As I turned the cap of the bottle and with some force I placed the cap on the table and pulled out the roll of paper. I gingerly unrolled it and continued to read:
Dear Dad, I feel lost without you. I miss you so very much. You moulded me to the person I am today.You showered me with love, from that tiny girl to the woman I am today. I miss the fun and laughter we shared: I miss your cheeky smile and the sound of your voice. I miss the simple things Dad, the times we spent chatting in the garden on a hot summers day. I miss the long,carefree walks we'd go on through the woods, on cold winter days. Your old grey cap sits on the hat stand in the hallway: I can't bear to part with it. I have so many wonderful memories, Dad, that I hold close to my heart. I remember clearly the day you got trapped in the toilet with a bee buzzing angrily around you. Oh how you made me laugh that day shouting for HELP. The number of times your cap blew off and ran along the promenade, you looked so funny racing after it in your long socks and knee length shorts. I smile to mvself, knowing how you made me laugh. I have so many memories; happy, sad, good bad; life's full of ups and downs Dad, but we managed, it was part of the learning process. I wanted to say so many things to you but I left it too late, I'm sorry Dad, but wherever you are, I hope upon hope you can hear me now? You will always be part of me, you will always be my Dad and I wanted to tell you I love you. Words do not always come to mind easily. I miss you dreadfully, but when I think of bees buzzing on a summer's day, my thoughts will be happy ones. Thank you for being my Dad who was always there for me.
God Bless You Always
Your loving daughter Beatrice xx
With tears running down my cheeks I tenderly rolled the paper back up and placed it back in the bottle. I made my way into the hallway, picked up the phone, dialled the number and said "Hello Dad is it OK to pop round for a cuppa?" "Of course it's alright, love. You don't have to ask, you're always welcome."
(C) Sue Rabbett 2008
My Bottle
My bottle holds a message of peace, calm and relaxation. It soothes me to sleep, clears my head, relieves my fears and eases my anxiety. It speaks soft, gentle words of comfort and reassurance. When I first pick up my bottle it feels very hard and cold, but as I hold it in my hand it softens, reflecting my own warmth back to me. The message in my bottle is a reminder. It reminds me to be gentle with myself, to take things easy. It tells me to let go and trust. To just wait and see. It is my talisman. While it is with me, I am protected, safe. When my skin is stretched thin over seething emotions I can no longer contain, it tells me all I have to do is breathe and I find that I have expanded, not exploded.
(C) Ashley Jordan 2008