The spark of Genius

Astrantia. My mum continued
to tend her garden into her late 80s.

My family seem to be sneaking into my
NaPoWriMo poems a lot.
A Guardian article provoked me
into a rant of a poem, which is a
tribute to my mum's experience,
and other women of her generation
who lived through the 1950s and
beyond, when a wife's unpaid
work would not be considered a
'contribution' to a marriage when
divorce and division of the spoils
came up.

The Spark of Genius

She wipes away the baby shit,

wraps him in freshly laundered nappy.

Feeds him, gives her chance to sit.

He’ll look a perfect picture for his daddy.

            Her husband has the spark of genius.

Four hourly feeds right through the night.

Up at six when baby wakes.

Shiver till the fire’s alight.

Cook the breakfast. Bake some cake.

           Her husband has the spark of genius ...