Joan unknown

by Sandra Davies

Having met when both were out of context,
she’d embellished his pewter actuality
with her golden dreams,
too young to know to hide her disappointment
at his hard-working, everyday normality.

Outnumbered by in-laws
and cowed by expectation
she compromised a co-existence.
Four sons (three of little consolation
and sadly damaged George), and
three daughters who, sharp-eyed,
observed, resolved they would do better.

After more than thirty years together
he died, appointed her executrix
but failed to name her ‘best-beloved.’ 

Small, brown, grave-faced and brittle
with martyred self-justification,
she lived another decade,
unwillingly missing him more than anticipated.  

Her final will and testament
overturned all his intentions,
provided carefully calculated sums for sons
and a pleasurable allocation
of linen, pewter, beds and bolsters
between Martha, Margaret and spinster Francis,
who further received one cow and a bullock.

She was buried as ‘relict’ of Robert Poole.