It’s time,’ Mum said,
We can’t go on like this.
We’re outgrowing the house
All these children...
Honestly, I need something for myself,
Harry, I work hard enough.

Dad grumbled.
He wasn’t particularly keen on listening to women’s whingeing.
Both of them were working their fingers to the bone.
The place seemed to get smaller every day,
As long as his chair wasn’t taken,
Once back home,
He didn’t really care.

Sooner or later, it would be...

Solved.
Bedtime!

School?
The children looked shocked.
Mum nodded.
A faint smile played around her lips.
Children aged two to five are welcome.
The paper said.

Far from everyone could write,
Those able to read,
Would spread the word.
Men in pubs,
Women in laundrettes,
Children left on their own...
On the streets of London.

Dame smiled.

No matter how long it takes,
You all learn to read and write,
Will become famous
Writers, poets
Time, confidence, stubbornness, are all you need
And... 4 shillings a year, each.

_{Painter: Thomas Webster
Painting: A Dame's School (1845)
16.9.26
The contest Art & Writing is hosted by @solperez
#artonsteemit #story #painting #webster #poetry #art #steemexclusive}