An Old Fashioned Girl

I guess that’s what I am -
and old-fashiond girl;
Liking things from olden days -
a cameo or a pearl.

I’d loved to have worn a long dress and a shawl -
living a long time ago;
Working the farm at my husband’s side -
when living was not easy, but slow.

Tucking the children into bed at night
in our tiny little home;
Knowing they were safe and warm
under quilts I had made on my own.

Then taking my treasure-box from under my bed
looking at two strings of pearls -
Family heirlooms handed down;
I was keeping for my girls.

I loved that my shawl was held at the neck
with my mother’s cameo;
I didn’t need bustles, curls and such -
My treasure was my cameo.

Life wasn’t easy but it was safe -
we handled the bad with the good;
No fancy carriage - just an open cart -
made sturdily with wood.

We had no white steed - just our old mare
to pull our plow or cart;
She was all we needed for how we lived
and always did her part.

The time when women baked their bread;
a scrub-board for laundry their plight;
Grew their own food; made their own clothes;
read by the oil lamp at night.

There was always time to visit a neighbour -
to share a moment in our day;
We walked and talked, read and laughed -
worshiped in our own way.

These words have changed to comedy
for when I look back I know -
Most of these things I have lived in my life -
just not the long dress and cameo.

©Joan Adams Burchell
November 9, 2006




Miscellaneous Poetry



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