Plea


Maira, you coped so perfectly, what would you like to call this little man?
Our baby son has just been born, oh how proud of you I am!
I think Andrew is fitting Maira dear,  he is such a handsome child
He has my eyes and your lovely nose; he is both of us compiled.
It is time for you to sleep my love, for you have had an exhausting day
Just rest your head against the pillow, let your cares just melt away
Bonnie and I will wait up a while and ensure that Andrew is well
Don’t you worry about a thing now, for on the future you must dwell.

You seem less troubled that you did, it is lovely to see you smile
Father, I will sit with you now, let us stay together for a while
Gosh, just look at the difference between my pale, and your reddened hand
Forgive me that was rude of me, when you work under such hard demand.
It is four o’clock in the morning, I have school and to work you must go
I wish that you could rest Father. You’re exhausted, Mother and I know.
Would you like anything to eat, or shall I make you a cup of tea?
Please look after yourself Father, for you mean the world to me.

©Sophie Bowns 2011-2014

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Restrained


Queen Evangeline looked up from her needlework, for she was nearly done,
She hadn’t seen Theodore all day and wanted to speak with her son
Mr Howard approached her as she cast the tapestry to one side;
She confronted the servant, asking him where Theodore could possibly hide
Her blood heated, boiling in her veins and something snapped within
She ordered Mr Howard to find him, and swiftly bring him in
The Queen shook her head in frustration, and pressed her lips into a line
Did her son have no idea of reality; was he even aware of the time?

Mr Howard darted outside, seeing Theodore sat on the cold stone seat
Theodore sighed as he was approached and their saddened eyes did meet
The young Prince shook his head as his stomach filled with butterflies
How his Mother made his legs shake, her behaviour he did despise
“Mr Howard.” He stated, “I think would rather die than marry;
For no one cares for me anyway; and this county I cannot carry.
Mother has already chosen a wife for me and of her I barely know
Why is it that the prospect of everything, terrifies me so?”

©Sophie Bowns 2011-2014

Anticipation


My heart is fluttering within my chest, I need to rest but don’t know how;
For my beautiful wife is in labour, I must stay for she needs me now
I gaze over at her flushed face and kiss Maira’s clammy cheek
I must stay, though my legs tremble. I feel I could sleep for a week.

Dearest Father, you’re very white! Here, you must sit down in this chair
Drink this cup of honey tea I made, or Mother will start to despair
I know you are worried about her, but please take a moment to recover
She has the best care she possibly can, don’t you fret about Mother

Thank you Bonnie, you are very kind. I felt a little tired just then
Yes, I shall rest here until it is necessary for me to assist again
Maira here now, hold my hand, this won’t be for very much longer
For as the hours pass, the time nears. Your contractions are getting stronger.

©Sophie Bowns 2011-2014

Childbearing


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Everything was still and tranquil, but then Maira felt her stomach change;

A tightening ached across her middle, as she sat by the fire range

John roused from his slumber, as he had been dozing in the fires glare

For he sensed that something had altered; of Maira’s distress he was aware

He got to his creaking knees and placed his arm around his beloved wife’s waist;

He reassured her with an overwhelming calmness. Bonnie left the house with haste.

She ran to dear Minnie Pip’s house, the one with sage upon the door

As John stayed with Maira and helped her pace up and down the floor

The contractions grew closer now, how Maira’s poor hands did shake

But the exhausted John comforted her, willing himself to stay awake

He lifted her in his gentle arms and like a child, carried her to the bed;

He placed the warm blankets around her pregnant waist and put a pillow behind her head.

Maira willed herself not to squeeze his chill-blained hands, resisting temptation to push

Minnie Pip and Bonnie rushed through the door, both breathless and scarlet flushed.

©Sophie Bowns 2011-2014

A Day Of Rest


Bless you John, you look so peaceful as you lie sleeping in our bed
I wonder which dreams are circulating around your troubled head?
You poor wee lamb, I love you, despite your slightly stubborn ways
But I fear that you look physically drained, and could probably sleep for days

Mother, I hated those pesky rags, so firmly knotted in my hair
They don’t make it look any better, I’d rather they were not there!
Goodness, is Father quite alright? It is not like him to snore
Oh please don’t tell me that he is ill! Not my Father who I adore!

Bonnie, don’t you worry, he says it is nothing serious and I agree;
I think he has a cold, which is why we must be as quiet as can be
Let us get his bath ready for him and it will be warmed when he awakens
Yes, your Father will enjoy a soak in the water if I am not mistaken.

Must I go to church; can I not do what Father does?
It must be so pleasant to lie in a field and examine the clouds above.
How is the wee bump today? I cannot wait to meet my sister or brother,
But we must leave for church now. I’ll look after you, dearest Mother.

©Sophie Bowns 2011-2014

Maternal


maternal

Mother, you’re heavily pregnant. Please sit down and rest your aching back
I demand that you must sit there still, while I clear this garden path
The floor needs to be swept and mopped and I shall wash the clothes
Mother, don’t you dare attempt to pick up those books; I shall collect those
Here now, hold out your hands, for you I have made you some tea and toast
Just sit in that chair now Mother dear, for it’s a break you need the most.

Bonnie, you’re a wee darling, but I can assure you that I don’t need to rest
You cannot do everything alone today, my dear I might have to protest
But the day is so very fine as the sun carefully caresses my cheek
Oh I am happy, this is like a being in a gentle paradise so to speak.
You have such fantastic confidence, my advice you don’t need to ask
As you do everything so conscientiously, completing every, single task.

©Sophie Bowns 2011-2014

A Sign of Rain


Your Grace it grows colder, oh won’t you go inside?
What is it that troubles you? In me you can confide
Is there something that is frightening you? Niggling from day-to-day
Your Grace, if you’re getting anxious then to me you can just say.

You must think a lot Mr Howard, for you spend so much time alone;
Just like I am forced to do, because you’re the only friend I’ve ever known
Pray, tell me what you think about and what ideas fill your mind?
As you plant those onion-shaped bulbs, arranging them line by line

I am grateful that I have served your family for all of 15 years
How happy I have been here, despite my initial fears
But you must go in now, for I must complete this task
Please take care of yourself your Grace, that is the only thing I ask.

Yes Mr Howard you are right, the temperature drops; there is sign of rain
Why don’t you come indoors too, so that you don’t get soaked again?
Oh goodness, yes the dark clouds are gathering, as I step inside and frown
The heavens suddenly open on you, and the rain falls swiftly down.

©Sophie Bowns 2011-2014

Dearest John


John, I know that you are sleeping and you might not be able to hear,
But I’m afraid that you’ve lost some weight; that is what I fear
You spend your days working too hard, trying to earn your keep
But in reality; you’re wearing out and are too deprived of sleep

Maira, it’s not for much longer, just until our work is finished
Then I promise I’ll leave the fields, for I am not yet diminished
I admit that I long for Sunday, for it is the only day I rest
I must continue my work; although it puts my stamina to the test.

Oh goodness me, I disturbed your sleep. John please forgive my speech
I cannot make decisions for you, or even presume to preach
Wee bumpie is wriggling around tonight; it loves to hear your voice
John my dear, would you leave the fields if you were given the choice?

©Sophie Bowns 2011-2014

Puppet


Your Grace, your parents are holding a dinner. One tonight I hear
Come now, I’ll run your bath, for the time is growing near
Is the water deep enough? Does the water temperature suffice?
I am glad it does, your Grace, I’ll leave you to your own devices.

Theodore good heavens! Do not cross the landing in a towel
Do you have no modesty at all? Why, this behaviour is simply foul
Your hair is dripping down your back. Oh Theodore, this will not do
For goodness sake don’t frown at me, things don’t revolve around you.

I cannot please Mother and how it is breaking my heart
Why are we all the more contended, when we are apart?
Her controlling ideas frustrate me, she does not give a damn;
I pray that Mother releases my strings, sad puppet that I am.

©Sophie Bowns 2011-2014