Caspar David Friedrich
My Father had a mid-life crisis! And I remember it well,
For when it was all over what a tale we had to tell!
He found it hard having daughters; seven of us in a row,
Sitting around the house all day with nothing to do but sew!
The servants, too, were female, except for Jim in the stable
And three or four little serving maids used to wait on us at table.
Mother had the vapours at least once or twice a week
So the cause for dissatisfaction wasn't too hard to seek.
She'd lie back on the sofa, when she felt out of sorts,
Whispering to my Father 'Bring me the smelling salts!'
My sisters and I needed husbands, and I fear that wasn't all,
Each one must be 'presented' at a special coming-out ball.
We could only marry in order and Sophie was proving slow,
With a face like hers it was difficult to interest a beau!
We were chattering round the table one evening by candle-light,
Deciding which outfit we would wear at the next week's At Home night.
I favoured my pleated muslin and Felicity started to cry
Sobbing 'If I can't have a new dress I think that I shall die!'
Father suddenly sprang to his feet saying 'I have had enough
Of all this domestic friction and all this female stuff!
I'm off to climb a mountain! That's what I want to do!
I'll be truly masculine and get away from you!'
Though he was wearing his frock-coat, the one with the pleated back,
He took his stick and left us to find a mountain track.
We watched him go with horror, we longed for his return
But he never came back to his loved ones; we were left to yearn.
They say he climbed a mountain, one with a yawning drop,
Looked down at the mists below
And threw himself off the top!
*
More mountain tragedy here:
1 comment:
Can see that you had spun a tough poem of a Dad standing between the deep sea and the.....?
A lesson to Dads on the quantity of children they should beget
Post a Comment