She picked up the bags which contained all her shopping,
Trying to carry them along without dropping
The contents. Hoping the handles wouldn't give way,
Spreading her purchases around on display.
She managed as far as the bus rendezvous,
Then one handle snapped and then it was two,
And over the ground rolled, jars, tins and fruit,
Clattering noisily, as they travelled en route.
How embarrassing this sort of happening can be,
All you have bought, there, for the public to see,
And no one offering to help you collect,
Your shopping. She felt such an despondent reject.
Then out of the blue, a gallant young Bart,
Offered her his help, his hand, and his heart!
© Ernestine Northover
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem