ah
hello dear
how are you
don’t you look lovely
I’m not sure if I look lovely
but they sound strange
like little girls boxed up inside
old ladies
it’s sunday
and I’ve jumped on my bike
and gasped my way
up to where mum’s working
in one of the female wards
they always seem to be busy
up here
scrubbing something
or folding something
but they’re all over me
when I visit
almost patting me
mum is really pleased
when I ride up
but sort of hurries me away
out of the main room
like she’s not sure it’s good thing
for me to be here
in one of the empty rooms
I perch on a neat bed
feet swinging
while mum ducks out for a second
then comes back
with a plate of roast chicken
left over from lunch
and pink junket
for a special sunday dessert
~
-
Author:
Frank Prem (
Offline) - Published: March 15th, 2018 00:11
- Comment from author about the poem: Franks Psychiatry Pt 1 - Early Years.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Laura🌻
Offline)
Comments2
Your Mum was obviously worried and needed to look after you. I hope that you enjoyed the meal.
Who could forget pink junket? Yummo!
Frank,
Pink junket? Had to google that one!!
“Little girls boxed up inside old ladies “...
I can understand why your mum was concerned! Another fine write! Thank you for sharing!
~Laura~
Cheers Laura. Junket - the stuff of kings! (in the 1960's, at least).
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