Martin Patterson Growing up in Armley late 1950’s It was an awesome sight on a misty morn When the huge face came into view It was the first time I had seen the Clock School clock I was only three foot two My first day at the Infants Pump bag in my hand Hung my duffel coat up in the cloakroom Found a box that was full of sand I then Sat down on the Coco mat Crossed legs and folded my arms Teacher reads us a story About animals living on farms I’d never seen the countryside I was born in Arma lea Which is really strange when you think of it Cos a meadow was called a Lea (Ley) My spelling gets much better As the school days roll along We draw with big fat crayons And we read books like Janet and John We say prayers every morning We get a bottle of milk as well But something keeps on bothering me It’s an awful horrible smell Apparently it’s Phillip’s Yeast A factory further up So that’s what the problem is you see It nearly makes us throw up. There’s another factory behind the school Less than a 100 yards away And this will cause untold misery For ever and a day There is another smell I like But It’s not the smell of Yeast It’s when we are walking up Town Street It’s the smell of Armley Feast First you walk past Ivy’s The fish shop on the Moor You can smell the fat and the vinegar Wafting through the door. Then you can smell the Diesel, The oil and caravan smoke The colourful trucks belching out their fumes It nearly makes you choke Then there are the other smells The Burgers, the Hot Dogs The Candy Floss and onions And those Bloody awful Bogs The lights and noise are brilliant On all the fairground rides Dodgems, Caterpillar, Speedway And the Helter Skelter Slides The rides are all too big for me So I try to Hook a Duck A Goldfish will do for me this time Or maybe a coconut I know that when I am older I will be going back to the Fair To stand on the bars on the Speedway With the wind blowing through my Hair To sing along to the records With my mates to join in the fun To maybe hold hands with a girlfriend You know it’s great when your young. We cut through the streets past Blakeys The smell of molten iron and steel Like a forgotten age from centuries past The scene is so surreal The Tannery is on the left The smell of leather and hide It’s always the same on Modder Ave A bad smell on either side We cross the road to Armley Baths Where I will eventually learn to swim The older kids,towels underarms Waiting to go in. The windows are always open High up and out of reach The steam billows out from the washhouse You can smell the Chlorine and the Bleach We are walking down Tong Rd now The Lyric on my right Carry on Constable is Advertised Showing at seven every night Saturday matinee tomorrow Roy Rogers here I come So I pick up speed on my trusty steed Whilst my hand is slapping my bum. We had to use our imagination then When we were only young We didn’t have much money at all But we always had loads of fun The simple things would please us Skipping ropes and tors Spinning tops with coloured chalks Knocking on peoples doors Kick out can, Hide and seek Hop Scotch,Rounders and such It’s a good job all these games were free Cos we never had that much I’m going in now to watch Hucklebury Hound And my favourite character Yogi I’ll be out later on till half past nine I’ll be playing on me Bogey. Ps..Anybody got a Silver Cross Pram they don’t want..I could do with a couple of big wheels.
Posted on: Sun, 16 Jun 2013 23:47:12 +0000
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