Gumboots and Grace and Growing Up

I have two secrets. Number one: secretly I am a tomboy and all I want to do is wear gumboots (or better still, bare feet) and climb fences and cross rivers. Number two: secretly I am a girly girl and all I want to do is wear dresses and put pretty ribbons in my hair. Those who know me say this is no secret at all.

I have recently rediscovered a poem I wrote for my dear friend Jane a few years back. We were only a few years old when we met, about three. Jane was a rural girl too – still is I’d say. Now that she’s all grown up she’s elegant and eloquent but can still sport a pair of gumboots like the best of us.

I remembered this poem because Jane has just returned from the UK after being away for a while. Ngaire’s back too, but just for the summer. We grew up together as well; working at the supermarket and writing notes in class.

I’m looking forward to reuniting with these two and with our other rural girls later this summer. Until then, this is for you ladies (I've taken creative licence because 'life is all about exaggeration');

Two Girls in Blue Dresses

Two girls in blue dresses

With the finest of gestures

Would never have pestered

For an immediate response.

But patiently waited

With breath that was bated

Lest their proposal be stated

As an outrageous idea.

And so there they sat;

With their hands in their laps

And their coats and their hats

On a hook by the door.

It is tough for a girl

With a string of white pearls

And a head of dark curls

To quietly sit.

Likewise with the other,

Who lacked naught but a brother

Yet required another

As her partner in crime.

With eyes wide and bright

They requested they might

Explore what great sights

Lay about in their midst.

It felt like forever

And they thought that they’d never

Hear a response as to whether

Or not they may go.

With a sip of her tea

And a pat on the knee

Each mother agreed

That indeed the girls could.

Promptly removed

Were their dresses and shoes

That remained, but unused

In a heap on the floor.

Gallivanting about

They’d cry and they’d shout

With the delight that they felt

For the things they had found.

Many a-days

Were spent in these ways

Though it was but a phase

In the life of these girls.

Even now they still meet

For a coffee and a treat -

Wearing shoes on their feet;

An acceptable attire.

These two dear friends, 

A bit like odds and ends,

Need never contend

For a place in the others heart.