Birthday Memories

It's our mother's birthday today. Were she alive she'd be ninety-six . 

I have a folder on my hard drive named 'Martha' and I looked at it today to see if I could find anything new to put up for her birthday. And found this poem. It's not a literary gem by any means but when I re-read it I remembered how much she enjoyed writing about her childhood and how much pleasure she took in sharing her stories and poems.

She never did get round to the internet. I'm sure if she had, she'd have been a prolific blogger and much better at encouraging the comments section than this particular daughter. 

When I Was Eight Years Old

by Martha Byrne

One day when walking home from school,

A farmer came our way.

He was driving sheep with little lambs,

That was only born that day.

The little lambs were weary and walking very slow,

He asked us would we carry them as far as we would go.

How pleased we were to do it,

And when we reached our door,

We were sad to leave them down, for we’d never held a lamb before.

There’s a song that brings back memories,

Of that day along the road.

Called “On April Evening” when April airs are abroad,

When we carried the little lambs that we were so pleased to hold.

This happened many years ago,

When I was eight years old.