Big puffy sleeves, a little dated I know
The dress was in the shop on a rail,
Not in the window on a mannequin,
But ‘End of Line’ .. £90 in the sale.
A meringue down the aisle maybe I was,
But it kept the rain off my ankles.
October the month, 1994 was the year,
Marriage doesn’t have to be a shackle.
The dress enjoyed its ceremony, then lived in a bag,
First in the attic and then in the barn.
The years they did pass, I forgot about it,
The children were born and joined us on the farm.
2017 a big tidy up, a skip (no, three!),
Highchairs went in, broken pieces of cot.
The dress I discovered, no mice had got in,
I can use this for patching rugs, can I not?
I could have given to a charity shop I know,
As the scissors cut through the yards.
But to recycle my way, to re-use and enjoy,
To beat that feeling would be hard!