parsley darlin'

thirteen kids

no mean feat

fifteen actually

two died young

life is hard

mouths to feed

bodies to clothe

feet to shod

(hand-me-downs never look good)

rising early

house is cold

furniture bare

floorboards creek

light the fire

....need the loo

shared loo outside

stinks inside

(freezing in there too)

washing to do

boil the water

scrubadubdub

wring them in the mangle

sweating face

aching arms

chapped hands

hang the washing out

(let's hope it doesn't rain)

dinner to cook

skin the rabbit

rabbit stew

skin the veg - carrots and potatoes

in the yard

parsley grows

grab a handful

adds some flavour

(along with some salt and pepper)

chopping parsley

dishevelled lad

"wot's that mom?"

"it's parsley darlin'" she said

off he runs

down the shop

with a penny

to buy some pop

(and a couple of lollipops)

days pass by

drab routine

day in day out

always the same

another rabbit

more rabbit stew

dishevelled lad

there again

(watching the skinning)

watches intently

his mother works on

dishevelled lad

knows something's missin'

trying to think

he goes in the yard

sees the herb

- it's parsley darlin'!

(that's what's missin')

picks some sprigs

runs into his mom

hands her a bunch

"don't forget the parsley darlin'"

......don't forget the parsley darlin', darlin'.....

©  Sonya Katasheva  2012

Author notes: Based on a true story: my father is the child and his mother is my grandmother. Set in the back-to-back slum houses of Birmingham, UK in the 1930s where the people were very poor and often had very large families. This is my own style – experimenting with arrhythmic timing etc – just fun to write :)

Image:  Public Domain (www.walktheworld.org.uk)