Taxing Travels

Clip-clop,
Bump bump,
Non-stop.
Why are we so keen to jump
This almost child,
This treasured lump,
From out of me ?
I’m trying to stay mild,
If unclean –
But why must we
Be on the road at all,
So close to my confinement ?
To carry safe this precious ball
Is the god-ordained assignment
Given to each mother
Who ever bore another one within.
Husband, dear, please,
I fear I shall begin
To push and squeeze
My cheerful load
Right here, on this busy road.
Husband ?  Hah !
That’s a joke.
You may be my betrothed,
But I kind of broke that bond
When I told you I was bound for motherhood.
You should have scolded me,
Your broody hen,
Once you had found-out you were conned,
And cast me off, no doubt,
As one no-good.
But no, you stick around,
You’re far too fond,
And not like other men.
But given that,
And the coming brat,
Could we not then have wed already ?
And claim the marriage bed
For our firstborn child ?
No – it’s my firstborn alone,
Not yours, and that must weigh.
I’m the one beguiled,
Who must atone for nights astray,
Or so they’ll say.
Thus could we not have tied the knot,
As we intend to, soon enough ?
I’ve brought it up, my love, a lot –
So how come you forgot ?
No, that’s alright,
I know why not.
You want this over with,
And my slate clean,
Before you feel you even can
Then give your word to me.
You want this whole absurdity
Behind us, not between,
Before you ever plan
To ask me for your queen.
You never questioned once my story,
Grasped your incredulity,
As comfort in the news.
You’ve never been accusatory,
Never voiced your views.
That’s why I love you, I suppose,
That’s why I chose
To tell you all about it –
Knowing how you’d never doubt it,
Daring you to call me out,
As one of those.
Ow !
These famous Roman roads
Are just another jagged track,
Where loads must carry so much baggage
On a donkey’s back…