Time was pressing it couldn’t wait
And our mothers, the sisters three
Hatched a plan, or so it seems to me
Something my cousins and me
Called the conception conspiracy
If such a plan had been discussed
The birthday dates preferred were June
And with many factors to consider,
Husbands to coerce would be a cinch
A kiss, a cuddle, a loving pinch
A little human to create
Doubled over and throwing up
Each sister thought with banging head
She should have bought a pup instead
Encouraged by Grandma saying something great
Like, “It’s your first, I had ten.”
No sympathy from our Nan, she’d say,
“Now, out of bed and start again.”
And as June 1949 came around
Through the moaning and contraction slug
Auntie Aileen gave birth to Doug
I was next with Edna pushing hard
My father banished to the yard.
Last was Beth bringing cousin Geoff to life
But there we were cousins three
Doug and Geoff and little me
June’s babies born eighteen days apart
A bond soon formed and as we grew
Through our scrapes our fights and fun
Some battles lost some battles won
Now sitting here soon seventy-two
I think about our shared history
Our mothers, fathers and siblings too
Of Nannie Symes, those sisters three
and I am convinced, there had to be
A planned conception conspiracy
No comments:
Post a Comment