The Mother's Tale - Tony Matthews: Your Composer of Note

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The Mother's Tale

The Mother's Tale

I wake up in the morning, the sun is shining bright
I look at my dear husband, who’s snored at me all night

The children are awake by now. Outside the bedroom door,
The quiet game they’ve played since dawn, has spawned an all-out war.

The cries of "Cheat!" and "It’s not fair!" Are ringing in my ears
And in they burst to seek my view, their eyes now filled with tears

And so within a minute now of waking from my sleep,
I’m called upon to act as judge and seek a peace to keep

The war is o’er, the battle won, the fight is on no longer.
The children turn to pressing needs, the need of mortal hunger

"We’re hungry", cry the little souls, there’s anguish in their plight,
for after all, they’ve both been starved, since eating tea last night.

From out of bed I now emerge, and sooner, rather than later,
I’m acting as a diplomat, a skilled negotiator!

"I want flakes" the offspring cries, "I’m sorry we have none".
"That’s not fair", it cries again and starts to grizzle on.

With patience and forbearance, I explain the reasons why
The little child cannot have flakes... Of course, it starts to cry.

The drama now is heightened, her soul’s been sorely hurt,
My husband comes to see what’s wrong, and asks for a clean shirt.

I send my man a sign that says, "That soon he’ll be dead meat".
He gets the hint and off he goes, a tactical retreat.

Now the kids are off at school, a few hours peace and rest
Hubby says, "Oh good, you’re back, can you iron my vest?"

My man has left to go to work, the house is mine to keep.
I sit and drink my coffee, put my feet up, have a sleep

My day is filled with leisure, badminton, I think,
or shall I see some friends of mine and natter while I drink

Soon the time will come when I will have to start some work.
Not just yet however, girl, must shop for a new skirt.

My life is really one long doss, my husband works all hours.
"And so he should", I hear you say, to buy me lots of flowers.......

I wake up with a awful fright! It’s all a dream I fear.
I’ve got to wash the dishes, I’ve got to clean their gear

I’ve got to scrub the floors (again), remove the muddy stains.
I love my man and both my kids, but boy, can they be pains.

And so my life goes rolling on, my lot has been die cast.
Only twelve more hours to go, then bed... and peace at last.

Tony Matthews 1999
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