Hi, Let me introduce myself,im a member of the Lancashire writing hub,but laptops etc,are comparitively new to me,so i hope you will forgive me if errors are made. I intend to submit a piece of writing titled,"snippets" from oldlancsmans diary,i hope to entertain you by taking you back in time,starting in the late 30s,the year of my birth,hence the name Oldlancsman,Thankyou all for the welcome comments you wrote,idid my best to thankyou you one by one ,but i fear all my thankyou,s did,nt reach there destination,but i hope to rectify that a.s.a.p.Thankyou,have a nice day.
CLOGS & SHAWLS Stone slab pavements, with cobbled streets. Working class towns-folk. with coker clad feet, Women with shawles on, the men wearing caps, A rare hardy breed, both women and chaps, The whistle has blown, their all in a flurry They dare not be late, so they all have to hurry. ~ 2~ The houses were terraced and all in a row, Two up-two down, with a stone flagged floor, We did'nt have a bathroom, our "loo" was out of doors. a mangle in the backyard for wringing out our clothes. ~3 ~ The streets they were our playground, we did'nt venture far, we wern't in too much danger, from passing tram or car. But fun we had in plenty, and our toys were very few, And our clothes were always dirty, but we always made them do. ~4~ Our mums & dads, they worked so hard on doc- land or the mills, they could'nt afford a holiday, or suffer any ills, But we were only children and didn't understand, and we believed our mums anddads, were the finest in the land. ~5~ Life was good when we were kids, we did'nt give a damn, No gourmet meals upon the table, but we had bread and jam, We had hot-pot on occasion, oh my was that a treat, Made by a white haired lady at the bottom of our street. ~6~ Alas, those days have passed us by, our child- hoods slipped away, But in my heart those days live on, although my hairis grey, My memories walk those cobbled streets, where my sisters used to play, And to hear the voice of mum & dad, now sadly passed away. ~7~ I'm in the autumn of my life now and regrets are very few, I don't count my misfortunes, I have better things to do. Instead i count my blessings, of which i have galore, and no man living upon this earth, could really ask for more. ~8~ So farewell my generation, the likes we'll see no more No more sitting round the fire upon a stone flagged floor, The sound of clogs in gas-lit streets, are relics of our past, And the memories of long ago, will forever last. PS... The white-haired lady in verse 5 was Mrs Moon of Crook St Preston Lancs, We lived in catherine st, No 1 Preston Lancs at the time. circa 1940. An original A poem of memories, by George Lawson.
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Blessed Are We (08/12/2015)
The Demise Of My Town (07/12/2015)
What ever happened to the good old days. ? (06/12/2015)
A SNIPPET FROM OLDLANCSMAN (07/04/2012)
"Snippets" From"Oldlancsmans" Diary. Part six. (02/02/2012)
Snippets" From "Oldlancsmans" Diary, Part Five. (01/02/2012)
" Snippets" from "Oldlancsmans" Diary. Part four. (27/01/2012)
"Snippets"from "Oldlancsmans"Diary. Part three. (22/01/2012)
"Snippets" From "Oldlancsmans" Diary. Part Two. (21/01/2012)
Snippets from "Oldlancsmans" Diary.Part One, (19/01/2012)
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