Skip to content

Wondrous Boxes

March 22, 2014

Standing in our hall below is a large cardboard box delivered yesterday.  Within, nestling in giant bubble-wrap, are electronic components expertly selected by our son Chris in consultation with me.

After dithering for months, I’m taking the plunge.  My ancient computer is simply not up to the job anymore, so I’m having it replaced.  After a decade of fruitful partnership, it’ll be a sad parting.

Chris will build me a powerful new desktop to my exact requirements.  Being an old technophobe, I’m nervous of making the change, but Chris will set everything up for me, and I know I’m going to love my new computer when I get used to it.  It’ll be like driving a Porsche 911 after a clapped-out Robin Reliant!

I’ll be offline during the changeover, so if I’m slow replying to comments you’ll know why.

The following is a double-haiku I wrote whilst struggling to access a website last September…




Steam-powered desktop

refreshed and refreshed no joy,

old circuits melting.


Soon it must happen,

a snazzy job in your place.

So sorry, old chum.




The other day I opened the brown canvas case that had been gathering dust in a corner of my study.  From it I took the camera I had as a Lancashire lad in the late-50s, my Kodak Brownie Flash II.  I was a keen young photographer back then, proud of my “Box Brownie”, the first camera I’d ever owned.  The funny thing was how familiar it still felt as I ran my fingertips over its black leatherette skin.  Looking through the viewfinder for the first time in over half a century brought a lump to my throat and sent me in search of old albums…





My old Box Brownie, parents young I clicked.

Tenderly still, in black-and-white, they cling;

Penmaenmawr sunsets for my album picked.

My old Box Brownie, parents young I clicked,

Barely out of short trousers, my quiff slicked.

Viewfinder clear, I feel you near and sing.


My old Box Brownie, parents young I clicked;

Tenderly still, in black-and-white, they cling.




Have a great weekend, everyone.




Copyright © Paul Beech 2014

(Poems previously published on Linkedin.)

From → Poetry

  1. Angela permalink

    Very touched by Box Brownie. We have many lovely photos taken by your faithful friend. X

  2. Thanks, Angela. I’ve just been looking through my old blue album from the late-50s, family snaps in black-and-white, mostly taken on holiday. Happy days. Such an air of order and calm. Funny to think that Mum and Dad would have been only half my present age…

    Love Paul x

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: