A POEM THAT SOME CAN RELATE TO I remember the cheese of my childhood, And the bread that we cut with a knife, When the children all helped with the housework, And the men went to work, not the wife. The cheese never needed a fridge, And the bread was so crusty and hot. The children were seldom unhappy, And the wife was content with her lot. I remember the milk from the bottle, With the yummy-yum cream on the top, Our dinner came hot from the oven, And not from the fridge in the shop. The kids were a lot more contented, They didnt need money for kicks, Just a game with their mates playing outside, And sometimes the Saturday flicks. I remember the shop on the corner, Where a penorth of toffees were sold Do you think Im a bit too nostalgic? Or is it...Im just getting old? I remember the loo was the lav, And the bogey man came in the night, It wasnt the least bit funny I thought, Going out at the back with no light. With the newspapers cut into squares, And then hung on a peg in the loo, The interesting stories we looked at, Some were put there to shock or amuse. The clothes were all boiled in the copper, with plenty of rich foamy suds. But the ironing seemed never ending, As Mum pressed everyones duds. I remember the slap on my backside, and the foul taste of soap if I swore. Anorexia and diets werent heard of, and we hadnt much choice what we wore. Do you think that bruised our ego? Or our initiative was destroyed? We ate what was put on the table, And I think life was better enjoyed.
Posted on: Wed, 12 Nov 2014 23:39:48 +0000
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