Sandy

Sandy was an everyday woman,
mother, lover and wife,
her Jack went to war in the city
to earn them a reasonable life.

She did sewing to bring in the extras,
a crumpet sometimes with their tea,
carried and carted the children around,
then cooked for the family.

But today Sandy’s life is quite different,
shares a cold basement room with two kids,
her daughter, not yet independent,
teen boy with a foot on the skids.

Master Jack and that blonde from the office,
skipped town, took the Jaguar too,
left Sandy to fade with her memories,
and promises, flushed down the loo.

She now sells her stitches on Sundays,
from a market stall down by the beach,
she also works week-nights at Dischem
to keep those accounts on a leash.

In the daytime, Mom’s taxi keeps shuttling,
and the cleaning and cooking get done,
there’s no money left over for extras
after the lentils and buns.

But when a friend of a friend is in trouble,
Sandy’s there to support and convey,
and if her daughter needs comfort or cookies,
she will always, somehow, find a way.

She spends not a penny on finery,
nor ever goes out for the night,
her struggling and caring are not seen at all,
and she tells not a soul of her plight.

Indeed, Sandy goes down to the market,
dancing and whistling along,
and if ever she feels disillusioned,
her brave heart just bursts into song.

She never lets on there are problems,
not ever is her mouth found turned down,
In fact, many believe that Sandy,
is the happiest woman in town.