The Carpet Train

Oh how I miss my Daughters and Me,

playing in the garden, the cemetery or sea.

The colouring in, the chalk on the path,

their friends staying over, or games in the bath.

What is it really, I'm trying to say?

I wish they'd both visit or maybe even stay.

I want to sit down and put them on my knee,

but that would be weird, cos one’s now Twenty Three.

The other’s Twenty One and ready to fly,

a London Town Uni is catching Her eye.

But wait! Let me tell you, I have to confess,

its not the older girls thats got me so stressed.

I miss both my little Darlings who thought I was the best.

They thought I was cool, they thought I was funny,

they've grown out of me, along with their toys and bunnies,

like clothes out of fashion,

they've moved on with a passion.

For pastures new, who needs the old fool?

Let me take you back to when they were both nippers,

of pre-school and nurseries and orange-pop sippers.

The toddlers would play, at The Church Hall every day,

until it was time to put all their playthings away.

The little-uns with tugs,

pulled the mats and the rugs,

but the last thing to go,

was the big Axminster roll.

I told Jen to get on,

and with a shout she then did,

waiting for me to pull her.

I huffed and I puffed then the carpet did fly,

round the Church Hall on the shiny wooden tiles,

Jen was laughing and screaming fit to bust,

but looking up at me filled with Love and Trust

Jen was upset when the ride was all done,

but she knew that tomorrow we'd have even more fun.

The very next day, at the end of the kids play,

I helped once again to put all the toys and stuff away,

Imagine the shock, on my face, as I got, back into the hall to see,

The carpet all rolled, and then all filled up, with every little kid that was there

they'd seen me pull Jen on the carpet the first day, and now they all wanted to share.

So I huffed and I puffed,
I puffed and I huffed,
I pulled for all I was worth.
But in that Church Hall, so very long ago,
the carpet-train stuck and finally stalled,

no rides for the kiddies it would seem on that day,

no last joyful ride to finish their play,

the Moms they did laugh and snigger with mirth, not very helpful, you might say.

But the laughter soon stopped and they all got in a strop, when they realised THEY'D be pulling that day,

cos Seventeen women and me at the back, had a real heavy time, trying to pull that big mat.

How they all mumbled and then they all grumbled, about having to work, to help this stoopid big Jerk.

If looks could have killed, then my pockets would be filled, with rocks and I’d be thrown off the pier.

But I had the last laugh, and was reduced to nostalgic tears,

to find "the carpet-train" still runs, after Twenty odd years.

I wonder if there’s new Dads pulling it now, or was I the only one to do it?

Is the carpet still the same, with the kiddies, the ones changed, for new ones all fresh for the ride?

Oh how I wish that it was me back there now, and with both my Darlings sat upon it,

shouting with glee, and looking up at me, with Love in their eyes and kisses for me.

I miss it, I loved it, I want it.