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THE PRAM.
My memory reshapes the scene,
When scarce embarked on marriage,
I had the need(now seems a dream)
To push a baby carriage.
While all the world of fashion wheeled
A Hyde Park, (all the rage)
My cane contraption quite revealed
Its decrepit, ancient age.
When tottering in my high-heeled shoes
I risked it on the town
My heart was tumbled into blues
Whenever I glanced down.
For though my baby was the most
Adorable in sight there,
Her wheeled conveyance was the host
Of a painful, shame-filled nightmare.
If I today a baby had
That antique would not hold her.
I'd strap her in the latest fad....
A knapsack on my shoulder.
Or a baby stroller,light and gay,
Would be all that I could ask.It
Would my mother pride convey,...
Not like that wheeled clothes basket!
Great piece of writing here. You showed how much pride a woman has not only for her child, but also what she uses for that precious bundle of joy. Yet, you lighten the mood with a quick wit, easy rhyme, and sense of humor. It's a wonderful poem and I'm glad I read it.
Hi Eunice
Once again you have brought back a memory from more years than I care to remember.
The one in our village ended up carrying Guy Fawkes around until the inevitable!!
Great words as always
Rob
Isn't it funny how we remember the things that brought us shame or embarrassment so vividly? This is a very nice stroll down a path we have all taken at some time. LOL
Luv,
Jessica