Married To Adventure: Part 3


Dinner was always served on time

The food nothing short of sublime

It was early to rise and early to bed

With sounds of chanting in her head

Holy Towers

Mother was quite a glamorous drone

Who’s pride and joy was the family home

Made possible by a generous son

Whose sense of guilt weighed a tonne

explore-istanbul old house

Father owned an upholstery shop

He worked long hours and rarely stopped

He expected his son to do the same

In a show of respect for the family name

The bride was left alone for hours on end

The key of stanbul drawing

And found she no longer had money to spend

She soon found a job in a language school

Adding her wages to the family pool


Hubby worked days while she worked nights

Very soon they began to fight

She complained about his lack of attention

And suffered long bouts of depression

Turkish slippers

Finally she screamed enough was enough

She was fed up with doing it tough

It was time to return to familiar lands

To raise her voice and wave her hands

No more the constant submissive wife

Time to go home and get a life

pre packed dinner

No more the constant waiting game

The fear of tarnishing his family name

Australia beckoned with treats galore

The promise of dingy pubs and footy scores

Had never appealed to her cultured tastes

But now she would leave nothing to waste

50s music at the diner

The world wasn’t as she thought it would be

Far too wrapped up in it’s history

She and her charming handsome Turk

Would be safe forever in the back of Bourke

gardening time

The End.

©Renee Dallow ( Hybiscus Bloom ) 30/4/2013



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