I hae just received this lovely poem from my old buddy, John (Old Brit). Thought some of our older members might like to read it. A bit long, but fun to remember.
A POEM THAT SOME OF US CAN RELATE TO;
I remember the cheese of my childhood,
And the bread that we cut with a knife,
When the children 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 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 didn't need money for kicks,
Just a game, with their mates in the road,
And sometimes, the Saturday 'flicks'.
I remember the shop on the corner,
Where a pen'orth of sweets were sold,
Do you think I'm a bit nostalgic?
Or is it....I'm just getting old?
I remember the loo was the 'lav'
And the bogey man came in the night,
It wasn't the least bit funny,
Going 'out back' with no light.
The interesting items we pursued,
From the newspaper cut into squares,
And hung on a peg in the 'lav',
It took little to keep us amused.
The clothes were boiled in the copper,
With plenty of rich foamy suds,
But the ironing never seemed ending,
As Mum pressed everyone's @duds@.
I remember the slap on my backside,
And the taste of soap if I swore,
Anorexia and diets weren't heard of,
And we hadn't 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,
Now, if you can relate to all of the above,
You have been on the retired list for many years now!!
Many thanks John. Eddie
