Penny Hemans - Boots

orange size elevens
trampling my clean floors

black-laced boats
pacing heather moors

oil-spotted wellies
clutching teen-excited toes

there's nothing so impressive
when the old ford blows

into first gear junior!
as his boots stamp on the clutch

slip them gently sideways
watch out! just a gentle touch

and when the night is falling
as he removes the mud

my sink is filled with floaty bits
a tidal line of earthy bits -

and spattered boots
smile up from puddled floor
as if to say
'please, do not throw me out -
I promise there will be better times
when the boy forgets me
and turns to his x-box '

one day - maybe -
I shall have
a shiny sink

and the boots will be handed
into the Red Cross

Penny Hemans

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/boots-5/