White Gloves

by Vanessa Walters, our writer in residence

She wore white gloves to her elbow and they shimmered a soft focus against the noon grey . My skinny kid yelled wehay and slid down a banister.
For a woman who would wear white gloves would nurture kiss caress and love
Leave pies to cool in a scrubbed clean kitchen
Frame pictures, darn socks and sew patches on warn linen
Such a woman would smile and the whole room would smile with back.
Sweet smiles sweet meats sweet voice singing sweet psalms in sweet tones.
Sweet-smelling vanilla bean skin that bathed in a faraway sun.
What wouldn't I give for the fluffy egg white-birthday meringue- wedding cake icing-whipped cream feeling of white gloves that shared their pearlessence with the frightened whites of ones' eyes?
But I stood aside and let her pass
One last glance for posterity

Contact Vanessa

You can contact Vanessa on virtualmuseum@rbkc.gov.uk.