Good golly miss Molly
Did you marry a man with a miner’s lamp and
Didn’t you know that the marriage bed came sprinkled with
Soot? Did he blind you
With a title, then tempt you with a butty?
How long did you keep that aspidistra flying?
Through the childbirth and the child death
And the end of the piano music
Spinning lace while your son
Learnt to spin a story.
(And how were your hands
After all that washing? )
When will you hold court
With the scientists and the academics and writers?
(C) Rebecca Deans 2016