Poem: A Stay-at-Home Mum's Quiet Day
Mmmm - Mum! No!
"There my child, a quiet day." Clean hands and face.
"I'll lift you down, that's the way." We have some space.
Pots and dishes are all done, The beds all made.
"Now you play and have some fun." The breadman's paid,
Greengrocer, hawker and milkman, too. The washing I'll fold
While "You play with saucepan and lid." She's as good as gold,
Even sometimes does as she's bid. Now look at this sheet
Worn so threadbare and thin in the middle. "Bang lids to the beat."
Bang! Bang! Mum, no!
I'll thread up the machine with the treadle, The sheet must be turned.
"There's a good girl, please don't fiddle." Oh, that wood has burned
Quite away. Kettle is cold. Add some more, bank it up.
Is that the dog's bone down on the floor? Forgot to feed Pup.
I'll rush it right now out to the shed. Two letters today.
"Come here. I found that rag-book we read. Please quietly play
'Til I get this cumbersome sheet all done. Then I'll put it away
And we'll go outside and play in the sun." All's done and tidy.
Wherever has my precious child gone? So quick to hide, she
Can disappear like greased lightning. Not inside anywhere.
This is beginning to be quite frightening. Out in the yard? Not there.
"Joybells, come! Coo-ee, coo-ee!" But all is silence.
Could she have opened that soaring gate? She? Climbed a six-foot fence?
Hasten to the front and look around. Oh, no! The gate's open wide.
What a relief! She appears, safe and sound; hair and hide
Intact, thank God. I've aged twenty years. A rope in her hands?
What now? Oh, Lord calm my trembling fears: A horse that stands
So huge and tall? What to do? Start pleading? Don't panic!
Take it slowly, but on he moves. If she suddenly stops
And he goes on with those wide hooves As he plods and clops
She'll be killed. Calmly I say, "Whoa, Dobbin." "Sweetest child,
Give me the rope." My heart is throbbing. He obeys and is mild.
Dobbin is docile. She's not, she yells, "Him's, mine! Him's mine!"
I grab her, hug her, my eye upwells. Now holding the line,
"Don't upset Dobbin," and holding them tight, I turn them back
Through the gateway and in sunshine bright, along the track
'Til we reach the paddock and tie him fast. Then homeward bound
We retrace our steps, until home at last. I survey the ground
As I lock the gate. He's ruined the lawn, my best flowers, too.
Joybells droops and starts to yawn. There's a pile of horse poo,
An adventure bonus, quite a useful thing. Now in for a nap.
Hubby's home already? Please take her and sing. Had a big day? Poor chap!
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