My Nanna wore an apron
for all her mornings tasks;
such a pretty shade and floral
and I have kept the last.
She washed and pressed it regularly
and placed it in a drawer
with several other aprons,
she didn't want for more.
They were always very pretty
made by her own fair hand,
with many different colors
and I'd gaze up as she'd stand.
Always standing doing something
like rolling pastry out
or frying Grandad's breakfast
cooking cakes when he was out.
She found it so important
to cover up for work...
sometimes jobs were dirty
sometimes she'd just talk.
So now I wear that apron
for my mornings tasks,
such a pretty shade and floral
I'm so glad I kept the last!
France 2003
Gillian.E. Shaw
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/n-the-apron/
