Dunoon in my Memory

Dunoon is written on a wooden plate
That now lies in the dark cellar
If it didn’t get lost too
During the last change of address
Like a great deal in my life

Dunoon was written on a wooden plate
That once hung on a cottage wall
Of my mother Vera’s house
Where I met her after many years
And saw my brother the first time

Dunoon was written on a wooden plate
When Vera moved in to the house by the sea
In a foreign country to pursue happiness
That got lost during the Second World War
Whereupon I had to live in a children’s home

Dunoon was written on a wooden plate
Painted with white characters
On that pitch black lacquered plate
Now it’s written in my memory
Dunoon on gleaming bottom of soul

Dunoon was written on a wooden plate
That I have kept all the lonely years
For what I do not know exactly myself
Today time heals deepest wounds
Tomorrow furiously it rips again many

Dunoon is written on a wooden plate
From the white cottage of my late mother
Who I wasn’t allowed to see often in life
Houses should all be given a name
Hence the memory sounds nicer

© ~ Sonja Nic Rafferty

Dunoon is a town in Scotland. I met my natural mother after years of intense search in her cottage DUNOON at the south coast of England. The first owner of the house came from Dunoon. When I cleared up her cottage after her death in 1992 I took a black and white wooden plate on which was written DUNOON to Germany. Yesterday it inspired me to write this poem.

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