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She
travelled to school each day through the snow That
five year old girl, who I’ve come to know She was packed off each day with nothing to eat In a thin cotton
dress, and light shoes on her feet
When
the dinner bell rang she’d trudge home alone Hoping
to find her Mother at home But
as always their house was empty and bare And
no meal on the table was awaiting her there The
poor little waif would sit on her own So
hungry and cold in her home all alone No
fire was left burning for that little girl So
she’d sit for awhile, then go back to school Her
schooling was over about half-past-three And
she’d hurry on home looking forward to tea Her
feet would be soaked in the ankle deep snow As
to home down the darkening streets she would go She’d
reach the front door and take out her key And
struggle to turn it, so cold would she be And
once inside she’d see Father and say ‘Is
tea ready Dad, I’ve bin freezin’ t’day Her
Father would take her cold hands in his Brush
back her hair and give her a kiss ‘I’ve
a nice surprise for you darlin’, he’d say ‘Cos
I made you some soup when I got home today’ Her
bright blue eyes would fill with desire As
she watched her Dad place the pan on the fire But
as the soup warmed she’d fall fast asleep With
the glow of a cold winter’s day on her cheek When
he saw that his child was so weary and tired He
left her asleep and kept the pan on the fire His
thoughts were upstairs where her stepMother lay She
was out on the town getting drunk every day The
child’s natural Mother had died giving birth To
this poor little waif who was now on God’s earth And
as the years passed, he had found a new wife Tho’
he’d never suspected she’d ruin their life She
was wasting the housekeeping money on booze And
had not a cent in her purse left for food Little
wonder their larder had nothing inside Their
money was going on beer and cheap wine They’d
had row after row through her drunken ways But
in the town’s pubs she still spent her days So
now he’d decided something drastic was called for For
he’d no longer allow this neglect of his daughter He
had at long last, reached the end of his tether No
more would his child be sent out in such weather In
thin cotton dresses and light shoes on her feet With
no breakfast inside her and no dinner to eat The
very next morning he confronted his wife And
informed her she’d no longer ruin their life And
when he had finished she was left in no doubt That
the time had now come for her to move out His
wife left the house that very same day Her
things were packed and she was soon on her way She
brushed by her husband without turning her head But
on reaching the front door she stopped and said, ‘Don’t
worry I’m going, you can be certain of that For
I care not a jot for you nor your brat! I’ll
be glad to get out, you’ll see me no more!’ And
cemented her exit by slamming the door All
this had happened whilst the child lay asleep But
despite all the noise she had heard not a peep Her
Father had left her to stay in bed late Whilst
he set about building a fire in the grate When
the youngster awoke and came down the stairs Dad
was sat by the fire in his old easy chair She
climbed on his knee, laid her head on his chest And
snuggled up tight in the place she loved best Whilst
she lay on his knee still sleepy and yawning He
tried to explain what had happened that morning And
it soon was clear they’d both got their desire They
then sat there together, snuggled up by the fire David Siddall, 1985 This poem is loosely based on Edna Day's childhood |
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