CELIA'S POEMS

No 180    September 13

When the children were all small,

I took them out each day,

Usually to the nearest park,

So they could have a play.

They were to get washed and changed,

I always did my best,

It was always hard work changing them,

Boy ! did I need a rest.

No rest for the wicked,

Now they looked just so,

I’d get the pram all ready,

And off again we’d go.

I’d put the baby in the pram,

The next in a seat on top,

I’d push the pram with the other two,

Told them where to stop.     

When we got to the playground,

Which wasn’t very near,

The children let their steam off,

Every minute for me was fear.

I hoped the children were tired,

After tea, ready for bed.

No chance, they were full of beans,

And I was nearly “dead”.

For years it was such hard work,

I was not allowed to slack,

Is it any wonder,

I now have a bad back.