Saturday, 3 October 2009

Second post-Another Scribble


I know this should probably be on AnglishLit but the ratings are better on All and Sundry, the weather has stopped me doing things outside and this seeped into my mind.


Hope those of a certain age will find their own memories, and those not of a certain age will learn something.

The Best of Days

The smell of coal fires waft down the street
A toasted crumpet for a treat
My father’s garden trim and neat
The short mown grass beneath my feet
My mother’s cooking on the stove
The food is served up with such love


Bread and dripping one inch thick
Today enough to make you sick
But back then it was the norm
No health scares to brew a storm
School dinners each and every day
To help you through the learning fray


The trip to school through knee high snow
No health and safety then you know
The playground games and that first kiss
Some things a youngster shouldn’t miss
Three brothers to a room at night
We must have seemed an awful sight


Each had a nice warm brick
Wrapped in cloth beneath our feet
The old tin bath before the fire
And as we shared the fun grew higher
On washing day the bubbling copper
And with a washboard, a job done proper


A gathering in the living room
To hear the latest show of goons
To listen to good old Dick Barton
And watch my dad play Jews harp and spoons
To watch cartoons shown on the wall
And keep our minds replete in thrall


The Coronation which was watched
On our monochrome magic box
Muffin the Mule and the Potters Wheel
In front of TV we would kneel
Noggin the Nog and Mr Pastry
Were met with much hilarity


The fun we had, our gang of boys
Imagination more than toys
We’d come home late but without fear
No harsh words and no tears
We seemed so safe back in those times
And life it seemed was so sublime


And help my dad work on his bike
It was a Triumph or some such like
The hours he spent instructing me
Not with haste but calm you see
Imparting knowledge to his boy
Made him feel complete with joy


The things we did together
My dear old dad and me, the nice long walks,
We’d talk and talk, and fishing by the sea
The books we read together and going for a ride
With open minds and open hearts
We did them side by side

And in the garden we would work
Dad with a spade me a fork
To prepare the soil for next years crop
About the time the apples dropped
The greens, the carrots and the spuds
Were planted then among the mud


And Mum was there throughout it all
To kiss it better from a fall
A bloody knee, a skinned elbow
A kiss from Mum would make it go
A hug was better than a pill
The scent of Mum is with me still


Fresh fruit and veggies from our plot
And fresh eggs too, we had a lot
Not moneywise but in affection
At least that is my recollection
Long summer days that never end
My parents’ trust that wouldn’t bend


But now it seems those days have gone
We’ve all grown up and all moved on
Those days we had will not reappear
Those days we had I still revere
Today the days of youth are tense
And youth today it seems is spent


The world has changed and for the worst
And youth today must be coerced
To do the things that we did gladly
The world is spinning far too madly
The young today are far too adult
The reason for the world’s tumult?



Angus Dei

© Angus Dei

3 comments:

CherryPie said...

That does bring back quite a few memories for me. I do draw the line at the tin bath though...

Very good poem BTW :-)

Dr. Liz Miller said...

reminds me for some reason of Jamie Oliver in Georgia with soul food!!

http://www.jamieoliver.com/jamies-america/

angus said...

Needs must CherryPie:)


Maybe times don't change Liz;)