Only A Child

But her own doting dearest Mama had died, in the arms of her daughter, as she inwardly cried

Only a child tho she had seen more than most, as she stood by the oven making their Sunday roast

Yet nothing ever phased this twelve year old lass, who had missed so many lessons, so she was not top of her class

Mind you she was no fool as she tried her very best, on her annual exams and excelling the rest

In those twelve years of her life she learned how to survive, as a widow’s youngest she kept her family alive

With no time off for friendship and outings in play, she awoke every morning starting the chores of the day

Dishing the breakfasts and doing the dishes..hoovering and dusting with her feather duster swishes

She had been thrown into the deep end along time ago, so cooking and cleaning came easily you know

Only a child so ahead of her time, constantly scrubbing and covered in grime

Nothing was too much trouble for this growing girl, with an apron around her waist and her ponytail in a curl

This was what God had intended on her Mother’s demise, and sometimes our future’s fate shows no time for compromise..