I remember monkeys in the backyard 

Throwing stones at the bars protecting the glass on my windows on a chilly autumn morning as the sun creeps gently through the curtains of my bedroom and a knock on the door rouses me to say I will find my breakfast in the kitchen with hot water boiling on the stove. 

Two eggs

Two slices of bread

A Vienna 

Sliced tomatoes

And baked beans. 

A jar of sugar

Beside jars of coffee and tea

An empty mug

A round tea spoon 

A square of margarine and a butter knife 

All resting conveniently on a metal tray bearing a floral pattern. 

Carefully, I add the hot water to my mug where three spoons of sugar and a teabag now lie in wait. 

There are birds chirping outside while I take in the images of early morning television. 

Using both my hands to get as many flavours on the plate into my mouth as possible. Salty tomato juices dripping back onto the empty crockery. 

“When you’re done, just leave the dishes in the sink” – I was told.

Birds still chirping as I finish my second cup of black Five Roses tea. 

Laying down on the couch and falling asleep to the sound of crisp rustling autumn leaves. Gently knocking each other out of the trees. 

Finding peace these days proves difficult and even in silence there are no rustling leaves, mischievous monkeys, creeping suns or conveniently boiling kettles on the morning stove. 

But I still have tea. 

Five Roses black. 

Three spoons of sugar and a short nap 

Waiting for me.