East London (Remove filter)
Fantasy Days
Oh, those fantasy days
Of narrow houses, long gardens,
Backing on to the railway line,
Where passengers marvelled
At the symmetry of washing,
Doing its flappy each-way act.
The vegetable patches
Gobbled up the dust and grime,
And smiles were extracted
From the school of hard knocks.
At sunset, big, proud men
Would contemplate their lot,
And bow sun-fired heads
...Saturday 6th July 2024 9:09 am
Recent Comments
David RL Moore on Everything but the truth
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Bonnie Madleen
12 hours ago
Hélène on Letting Go
16 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on BUCKET LIST
16 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Letting Go
18 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on part savage, part human
18 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Down on my uppers
18 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Weekly WalkaboutsVerse, E.G., Poem 61 of 230: WORSLEY VILLAGE
18 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Anyone For Tennis
18 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Compost
19 hours ago