RAGS TO RICHES BY FIONA CUMMINGS

RAGS TO RICHES

BY FIONA CUMMINGS

She was born to paupers

One of three daughters

Coins came from her father

As he left each day on a boat

She had handy down clothes

Her big sisters old coat

And shoes stuffed with papers

Baked foods from the neighbours

Exchanged for fresh cod

The fire was lit each night

Coal stored in the back yard

Times were hard

But something she had was free

A smile upon her face

Was worth more than pretty lace

She lit up a room

As people use to say

Here comes little smiler

To sing us a tune

Such a beautiful voice

And a constant reminder

Though she had no choice

When it came to fashion

She gave freely her passion

As she sang on a stool

A tiny little girl

In a big world

Where materialistic values didn’t matter

 What did was love and laughter

But would that be happy ever after?

She didn’t see her Mother cry

Or father struggle to get by

They kept the truth from the children

As their innocence were protected

Her parent’s plea for extra time

But sadly the land lord rejected

So a little cottage with a rickety fence

Would be given to another family

No more  candles on the Christmas tree

No more stories by the fire

Just for the sake of a few pence

A trunk was packed that day

And the songster would go away

Her first journey on a train

She would never forget the pain

As her Mother went to work for a master

And her Dad sent to jail

No happier ever after

The cottage walls echoed with forgotten laughter

The eldest sister was sent to a farm

Whilst the other was fed only to darn

As for the little girl

Her life would be in a twirl

As she passed fields and houses she could only imagine

Her words were lost as her tune said goodbye to the passion

A tear stained face

 Would be sent to a new place

Far from the love she knew

She lived with a distant aunt

Who taught her to read

In return she would scrub floors till her fingers did bleed

Books were her escape

To a world far from hers

Where ladies wore firs

Those things didn’t matter to the little girl

But she was interested in that world

What she wanted was the love of her family again

More than riches

Cursed by witches

Her poison was fed

She would never wed

As she had nothing to give

So she got from her knees

And spoke up for herself

Quoting from a book she took from the shelf

“To you I’m no one

But to others I’m someone

And each day I face rejection

I am starved of affection

But I will work to give my family protection

And one day we will gain respect

And you will remember my words

And reflect

On your treatment of me

I will survive for my family

Just watch and see”

She educated herself

And became a teacher

She married a Lord

Her life she could afford

But her heart wasn’t full

And she was on a mission

To fore fill her ambition

Collect her Father from a life of hell

A tiny damp cell

On sight of her to his knees he fell

She swallowed the lump in her throat

As she showed him papers of his new boat

From a fine house she collected her Mother

An older looking lady than her years

A river could have been created from her tears

Then the journey to find the others

To learn one sister had gone to the lord

Nothing could bring her back

No matter how many coins she could afford

So the moral of this rhyme

Is don’t ever give up

Dreams may take time

And no matter what occurs

Rags and love is worth more

Than gold and furs

If you find yourself scrubbing a floor

As long as you are adored

Sleep safe in your bed at night

With a candle for light

Is a gift worth more

So don’t give up the fight

The girl spent all she had

But that didn’t matter

She had the love of her family

Husband, Sister, Mother and Father

Sunny days now

Whilst lines upon his brow

Her Father sailed the sea’s for fish

 Her Mother made a wish

That they would never again be apart

And the eldest daughter would stay in their heart

A new start

 

 

© Fiona Cummings