Grub's Up/Little Nunnery

Time has been a bit of git lately and therefore I've had to post two weeks' worth of Magpie's.  Once I get something on draft I feel obliged to finish it. But for now, here's the poems. Both of them took me a joyous trip back to childhood. Hopefully I'll get round to reading  all the posts buts MT is vastly - and deservedly - growing! Fingers crossed!

GRUBS UP

We never bought apples - just raided the trees
Me, Molly, David and Pippa-Louise
That sour-faced old dragon stood watch at her door
So we eyed up the fruit  in her orchard some more

Hard thing to judge was her various moves
Afraid she'd return as we gathered the goods.
For she'd rather the fruit lay rotting on grass
And so scared to be caught in her nightmare impasse!

But we loved dented apples in wrinkly sheaths
We'd spit out the pips that got stuck in our teeth
We'd brave out the sour taste, inspected the holes
Where a grub or maggot would often patrol

We never bought apples - just raided the trees
Me. Molly, David and Pippa-Louise
 **************************************************************************
 LITTLE  NUNNERY

Every second Sunday, we'd get togged up in our my best,
To make a blessed journey - all skips and hops and rest.

Coins jiggling in my pocket? Checked a million times or more.
Our mouths secrete this tempting sweet  - celestial allure.

We'd ring the bell and stand up straight, smooth the creases from my dress
Greet Mother with a simple smile (and great need to confess!)

Despite her being very old she memorised our names
And placed her hand on every head, her love it did pertain.

We'd get a peek into their house, all beauty and serene
Mahogamy and brass attached to every single beam.

In our peaceful, short duration, her smile wiped us of our sins
As background music waved the air in tones of violins.

We'd buy a slab of tablet - sized in a perfect square
And ensconce a little candle in the iron holder there.

Then the journey back was lengthy, but the sweetness tamed the time
Our home-bound steps were filled with joy and quality sublime

Then time took on a different spin, we grew up all too quick
And phased out our Sunday visits for our teenaged bags of tricks.........

I read the news one quiet day, our Mother with our Lord
Still Superior and humble, gaining her own sweet reward

I  made for her some tablet, bought the brightest, fragrant flowers
And laid them both upon the step, I'd spent my Sunday hours