White Boots

Today’s Octpowrimo prompt is to bring our memories of colour to a new poem.  As a quilter, colour is incredibly important to me, and I’ve often written technicolour poems.  Colour me Happy is the most viewed poem on my blog.  It dates from a long time back, and has been re-blogged a couple of times, so I won’t bore you with it again!]   This one is new, but one of my earliest memories.  I suppose white is a colour.

White Boots

A bundle of mischief aged about two
lay on the kitchen table
Mum in a rush attempted
to button the baby’s boots.
White buckskin, they were, quite stylish
six buttons each side, very fiddly.
The child with a wriggle
crossed her legs with a giggle.

Left went on right and right went on left,
button hook flashed with a flourish.
At last they were done;
the child stood on the floor
and Mother looked down in horror.
Oh no, she cried, supressing a curse,
what’s to be done? Oh bother (or worse).
Of course they missed the bus.