Who am I?

 Whilst out on a training bike ride this morning after our early swim at Littlehampton Swimming Pool, we came to a gate that is a barrier between one private estate and another there is a gap at the side where there is just room to cycle carefully through, or for Dog walkers and mothers with push chairs  or prams to get by. The space had been completely blocked by  two vans and a group of workmen. It was a struggle for us to get by them. My husband pointed out politely that they might want to move the vans over slightly so that people could get by. As I came by I said it would be difficult for prams or family with kids on tricycles.
"Who do you think you are" was the response. "We're working here".

Who Am I?

‘Who do you think you are’, I have been asked sometimes

And most of those occasions in a tone indignant

From a person who on their high horse climbs

With malevolent, malicious expression mimes

After all, who indeed are they to think me malignant? 

‘I’m not really sure’, is the most truthful thing I could say

Confidence was never my forte; I put on a front at best

And though I have had many, I hate to argue and to brae

I come unprepared and fearful into a spite filled affray

What’s said is usually meant, after the ‘Sorry’s are laid to rest. 

Most popular complaint to my face is, ‘Over active imagination’

My downfall there admittedly I would have to say

Is that a bad thing? Why halt my poor brain’s merry migration

Would you have my more innocent wanderings suffer incarceration?

I, think the lint from the tumble dryer gets prettier each day.  

 

It may be my fault that my mum was a Connaught Theatre usherette 

I got her complimentary seats for Worthing Repertory Company

Dancing classes all week long, forget the maths and science threat

To keep me off the street’s my mum would go into debt

In my magic theatrical world nobody need accompany. 

My dopey, dreamy way earned me many a slap at school

Cruel teacher tries hard to beat my big brothers sense into me

Making me know for sure that I was a little fool

Spending my free time draped in satin and in tulle

It proved not to be so bad letting my young mind run free.  

Mum’s gifts were theatre, dance, poetry, love and many a thrashing

Dad gave me order and music; he played the cornet in the Sally Army 

I am today what myself and others made me with either love or bashing

Ask me today and I will say that my life has been smashing

The one lesson well learnt; that good things in life not always are free