Baker Boy


Take me home to the bad times.
Age of twelve climbing steep cobbled hills,
Pushing my cycle with a basket full of bread,
Freshly baked to the bigger houses
On the hill
Where they had money.
They sold woven thread..

If I didn’t make target,
(A target in them days was something for arrows),
I was thrashed with a leather belt and buckle.
But if I made target
I was paid handsomely,
Including a bowl of broth and warm bread.
When I did well
Adrenalin rush to the head.

……………………………………………………..

If the wife doesn’t go crazy
I’ll soak my feet tonight.
Toe nails far too long.
Need softening and cutting.

Takes me back to the bread mill.
Used to grow my nails
So I would limp.
After the sympathy vote.
A political wimp.
Whatever my rote
I worked hard and played hard
And am still scarred
By the memories.

So OK!! I’m sitting, feet soaking
And I’m trapped.
Wife nagging, kids playing up.
How can I get my belt
That hangs on the door?
I’m ensnared.
Emotionally bared!
And they want more ……

Brats pulling, clinging.
She’s somewhere else whining.
My bare feet stuck
In a burbling water bucket.
I thought ???? it!!
And turned up the remote.
Staring blankly at a moving screen
And thinking of when I was thirteen.

……………………………………………….

I trimmed my softened nails.
I was incapable of mentally listing the payments
My salary had to take care of.
Thoughts wandered back to the cobbled hills
And bread mills
And the thrills
Of meeting target
And the dread
Of not selling bread.
I looked at my kids
And wished I was dead.

………………………………….

Told the kids to get rid
Of head of human resources
And then get rid of me.
I’m no good
As head of a major bakery.
I live in the world of cobbled hills
And long toe tails.
My sons have set their sails.

Goodbye sons and nagging wife
Goodbye cobbled street.
Goodbye life and whole grained sliced
I’ve found something far more sweet.

As always, I'm right there with whoever you may be at the moment, from the first word to the last, my Dear Rustilium.

Thanks! Had a very busy but rewardingly busy day, painting the front porch, trimming windows and doors and painting the outside front siding on the porch. Tomorrow morning I'll start on the white parts, trusting this silly body of mine to be able to continue in the morning instead of demanding a sling after painting. And I'm glad to see you at the end of my day.

Hope you have a lovely and relaxing weekend, Dear Knight, and hope to see you again soon.

Love and BIG HUGS,

Alice