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I was a girl of only seven, when my father passed away
No shout, no call, no warning, that it was his final day
A small man with a moustache, and very little worth
His face beyond my memory, his voice lost to the earth

I was one of thirteen children, two died when I was young
Another went to drinking and howling at the Moon
To eat we worked all hours, slept huddled in our bed
Top to toe and crowded, but warm and rosy red

Laughter was a gemstone that we could not afford
We struggled through our childhood and had to move abroad
Our little town of Gorey that nestles in a bay
Like Wexford, didn’t have the work, we had to move away

A long cart ride to Dublin then across to Holyhead
We left the green and pleasant fields to sway in third class beds
The voyage was rough and dreadful for a soul who loves the land
And the sight of New York’s harbour I clasped in open hands

An uncle who was willing to sell his niece for drinks
Put me on a train to terror from which my mind still shrinks
I ended up on handouts and the charity of saints
Who took me in and clothed me and ignored my life of taints

My time was spent in learning how to put these words to you
And how to keep a kitchen and feed a mouth or two
I was happy but unhappy if you know just what I mean
The family and the friends I had could not fulfil my dreams

I saw an advertise-ment from an agency which read
That they needed younger women who could help a home instead
Of depending on the kindness of those who helped me through
It would be working with a family and a child of only two

Full board for baby sitting and helping with the child
In a house along the valley and I sat and read and smiled
I wrote my application in the best ‘hand’ I had learned
Which rewarded me with something for myself that I could earn

The farm was large but tidy with a porch and picket fence
The farmer small like daddy his moustache was dark and dense
His wife was slim and lovely with a smile from emerald eyes
The child was like her mother but with roly-poly thighs

I took to them with pleasure which they returned with warmth, all three
I’d found a home to live in and at last I could be free
We settled down to living like all country people do
The seasons and the years passed by and time it fairly flew

My writing and my reading were passed on to little Pearl
Who grew to love me just as much as I did this blooming girl
Her parents never shirked their work and I did all I could
To make our lives as easy as any servant should

I rose at dawn each morning with a smile upon my face
I was happy not unhappy, I’d forgotten my disgrace
The years when I first left the train in abject poverty
And had to do all sorts of things to live, but now was free

One afternoon when rocking Pearl to get her back to sleep
Her papa sat beside my chair and kissed me on the cheek
A happier man I’ve never met who loved his family dear
He played with pearl at every chance, I was frightened and unclear

“I’ve been to town to get some stores and brought a gift for you”
He handed me a parcel with a ribbon tied in two
“I know it isn’t very much but I want to show I care
For the love and help you’ve given Pearl who’s sleeping by your chair.”

I blushed and stared down at the wood, stained white upon the porch
The parcel weighed so little but I felt my face so scorched
“I don’t know what to say to you, I only do my job”
It’s the only answer I could raise as my face burned like a hob

He rose and laid his hand on mine and chuckled to himself
“Just wear it on a Sunday, but keep it ‘neath a shelf.”
He went indoors and shouted to his wife who was upstairs
“I’m back, I’ve got the things you want, is your headache any worse?”

She’d been staying in their room much more in recent weeks and days
She’d stared at me in silence on occasions in strange ways
We’d always got on very well but she altered I had seen
It had happened on my birthday when I became eighteen

Her husband made a great big fuss and swung me round the room
Singing “Happy Birthday” in a voice that was not quite in tune
I didn’t know that he took drink until that happy eve
His wife had said “It’s time for bed,” but he didn’t want to leave

So now I’m sitting on the porch with a present in my hands
“What the hell to do with it?” I held the ribbon’s strands
Pearl woke up and stretched her arms and smiled at me with joy
“I wonder why her parents hadn’t tried to have a boy?”

“What’s in the bag?” she asked of me as she sat up on her chair
“A surprise he said” from by the door, I hadn’t seen him there
“Don’t tell your mum about the dress because it’s our surprise”
“A dress,” thought I, without a turn to look into his eyes

How did he know what size to get to buy me such a gift
All joy and gladness in my heart had now begun to shift
I took Pearl’s hand and led her through to pour her favourite drink
I needed time to sort this out, I needed time to think

I did my chores and swept the floors and went to bed at eight
My mind was in a turmoil, I had to get things straight
But curious thoughts about the dress were running through my head
I opened up the parcel and laid it on my bed

Lace and frills and countless swirls of cloth lay there to see
I had never had a gift like this and it was bought for me
I put it on and twirled around imagining a ball
Dancing by myself I turned and danced along the hall

“I need a mirror” so I crossed into the small bathroom
“I look lovely” in this gorgeous dress and applied my cheap perfume
Standing there I felt so pleased that someone fancied me
But as I turned I felt the knife sink deep down inside me

“What the ?

Byron, more crap. You should have learnt after your first attempt.
You need poetry lessons.
Goodbye