Rose Maloney sits in her chair

The room is dim

The floor is bare

And life for Rose is very grim.

 

Rose takes in sewing

It helps to pay the bills

Though it pays a pittance

For her meagre skills.

 

Her children play in the yard

Not knowing their fate

Times for Rose are very hard

And the rent man won't wait.

 

Roses  husband, drowned at sea

And she wishes he'd walk through the door

Tommy the youngest he's only three

There's Lizzie at six, and Billy at four.

 

A bowl of soup, a crust of bread

Their little faces washed clean

Then up the stairs off to bed

None of them too keen.

 

The rent man's waiting for his money

As Rose sells her husbands clothes

She knows life won't be milk and honey

So Rose Maloney sits and sews and sews..

 

© Hazel