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Easter Chicks on a Boat





As you read my little poem,

dear reader, please remember,

it was a different time back then,

when things were so much simpler.


‘Twas 70’s eve of Easter Day,

when eggs and gifts await,

I was a quirky child of five,

excitement ever great!


I waited till my folks slept sound,

and all about was still,

I crept out from my toasty bed,

anticipated thrill.


Downstairs I sneaked, to take a peek,

at all my eggy plunder,

a gift I found, with eyes so wide,

I punched the air with wonder!


The gift was small and bright snow white,

soft as the purest dove,

A pack of tissues of my own!

‘twas what I’d ever dreamed of.


You see dear reader, ‘twas like this,

my ma a strict disciplinarian,

only hankies were allowed,

to her – tissues, unsanitarian.


I went to bed on such a high,

‘twas hard to fall asleep,

I never did anticipate,

how much I’d sob and weep.


I dreamed a dream of Grannies house,

where tissues flowed asunder,

pastel delights plucked from the box,

an endless cause of wonder.


Eater day soon came – at last,

I rushed to my delight,

Alas no tissues waited there,

just SOCKS, white and knee height.


I wept and cried, made such a fuss,

my ma was most perplexed,

she clipped my ear, and scolded me,

I was sent to bed quite vexed.


© Bless You 27.01.2013

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Easter Chicks on a Boat (Photo credit: nickstone333)