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I must go down to the shops again,

     To the bedlam and ballyhoo,

And all I ask is a cool clear head

     And the hope that there is no queue;

 

A desire that things will not have moved

    From places that I know,

Not blown away by the winds of change

    That through supermarkets blow.

 

I must go down to the shops again,

    For my store-cupboard’s running low,

For a ravenous family returning from work

    Is a regular thing to know.

 

And all that I ask is the time in which

     To buy the food I need:

Ingredients with which to prepare the meals

    On which hungry people feed.

 

I must go down to the shops again –

    Mine’s a busy housewife’s life –

To the hustle and bustle, the flurry and worry

     Of an everyday working wife.

 

And all that I ask is a word of thanks -

     Yes, that’s enough for me,

And an occasional naughty-but-nice cream cake

     Washed down with a cup of tea.

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Copyright on all my poems

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