Inside my Book of Memories,
From nearly 50 years ago...
An image of Mama's old Singer,
As she sat sewing our clothes.
The treddle would clank, the bobbin would whirr
The needle tapped-out its own rapid song:
One thing was certain - tablecloth or curtain -
Something stout, came about, before long!
Such a Mystery! that old black Singer
To one, quite as curious as I:
The 'look, but don't touch', seemed often too much
For this little 6-year-old's mind!
Mama sat there for hours
Bent over her "haute couture";
Her hands fed the cloth into its fate,
While her foot played the drums, on the floor!
Of all the grand magnificence, a la fabrique!
Mama had composed on that Ancient Machine,
Was there never-so-clever, or sweet, an endeavor,
As three green aprons - with pink apron strings!
No garments so priceless, had ever resulted
From the impeccable cunning of my mother...
Until this "one-for-all" - one for mother, daughter, doll -
And nothing...for my brothers!
Nosirreebub! That day was just for me -
A day I'll never forget...
Though I truthfully cannot remember,
If I laughed out loud ... or wept.
For years, I held onto my doll and those two aprons
Until...I suppose I simply passed them on...
Now, I just whisper a prayer,
thankful both these are still there
The precious Memory...and The precious Mom!
==========HAPPY 77TH BIRTHDAY, MAMA==========
Your Loving Daughter ~ Rhonda
C.2006 Rhonda S. Galizia All Rights Reserved.