Margaret's Embroideries

In Upperby, Carlisle, where she spent her childhood,
Life there, was pleasing, family prospects were good,
Her father, a beneficiary of grandfather's estate,
I am told life was easy, in those days, at any rate,
She was a pretty little girl, with long golden hair,
Who so loved the flowers and the sweet open air,
She worked on embroideries, exquisitely detailed,
Too soon, life's embroideries, these pastimes curtailed.

~
Her father was not good with the family accounts,
He soon lost his legacy in dwindled amounts,
From yeoman of Upperby, to the shipping industry ,
Where he was a turner, to support his family,
Her mother was ill, life was taking it's toll,
Fate was pointing a finger, towards Margaret's new role,
A sweet baby brother was just the last straw,
Her dear mother slumbered, to wake never more.

~
No more than a child when her mother passed away,
Margaret left school to do the housework all day,
At thirteen years, she was the eldest of eight,
To wash, cook and clean the house, was that girl's fate,
She stood upon a cracket,* to reach the kitchen sink,
So petite and tiny, she could not reach the brink,
Caring for her brother, from he was two months old,
That poor little girl with a heart of gold.

~
She was caring for the house and her siblings too,
Feeling very tired, so much work to do,
Father married mother's sister, perhaps against the law,
Life was then much easier, than it was before,
Stepmother was kind, the children loved her very much,
The image of their mother, with the same gentle touch,
She'd helped to heal the hurt that they felt inside,
With all the love they needed when her sister died.

~
With embroidery still her pleasure, Margaret fell in love,
It appeared to be the kind that was sent from up above,
Engaged to a soldier, her life was like a dream,
She deeply loved her soldier, how could he be so mean,
He gave her an embroidery, an embroidery full of lies,
After writing to his padre, she found her love had family ties,
She had sent her love a letter, which he then did scorn,
When she told him in that letter, a child was to be born.

~
In a sympathetic letter, the padre said her love was tied,
With a wife and two children, that philanderer had lied,
Locked up by her father, not allowed to leave her room,
No one allowed to speak to her, all was gloom and doom,
Meals were left at the bedroom door, she was in disgrace,
Father's anger was so great, he would not see her face,
With only her embroidery, throughout her sad confinement,
She thought of that embroidery, which lacked her own refinement.

~
A son was born to Margaret but she held her head up high,
She would always be a lady, even if they made her cry,
Forever the perfect lady, indeed it was inborn,
"If you have one glove, then carry it, never look forlorn.
Show the world your good side, never let them see you down",
This was my dear grandmother, to me she wore a crown,
No queen was born to equal her, regal to the end,
The kindest sweetest lady, everybody's friend.
~

In Loving Memory
MARGARET LONGSTAFF Nee PEARS
1891 -1956

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