[Author's Home Page]   [About the Author]    [News Page]     Welcome:    ---    LOGIN
 Humble Caledonian Bard       92851 Poems Read


A walk through my Childhood



Friday

School week over, I would race the other kids home,
Mum would sit there waiting, in her hand a lice comb,
My hair clean if I remember, but there's no rest in sight,
Polish your Boys Brigade brasses, belts gleaming white,

Then just before dinner, go look out your football gear,
Screw in studs on those boots, your away strip is over here,
There was always fish on Friday, eat as much as your able.
However there's no talking while eating, no elbows on table,

Saturday

Some Saturdays we played football, some Saturdays not,
Sometimes it was the  Regal, watching silly films with no plot,
Tarzan, Buffalo Bill and Flash Gordon to name a few,
Often the films broke down, all the kids would start to boo,

Spending Saturday on the Gramps all afternoon we would play,
Often scratched by sharp thorns, picking brambles on the way,
Getting home for the "Lone Ranger" after the football scores,
Television for all on a Saturday night, no more daily chores,
 
Sunday

Waking up Sunday with a Scottish breakfast on the stove,
Now they say its unhealthy, to us it was manna from above,
The Sunday post lay on the table, on the radio, children's tunes,
Patiently we sat there waiting, for Oor Wullie and the Broons,

Forces favourites, Jimmy Clitheroe, old programs that we followed,
The Glums was on the radio as our Sunday lunch we swallowed,
Always there was second-day soup, lamb-shank for the main course,
Then homemade dumpling and custard which we would happily force,

Sunday night was our dreaded bath time, it became such a toil,
When we were clean and dusted, it was time for the cod liver oil,
Mum held on to our noses, but we opened our mouth to breathe,
Swallowing that wicked witches potion and trying not to heave,

Monday

Then back to school Monday, the weekend went so fast,
No homework at weekends, as in the playground we massed,
Waiting for the old school bell, as the teachers held us in line,
Diligently doing what we were told, the register they did sign,

That weekend now a memory, but at 3pm went the bell,
After our homework, Monday meant we had swimming as well.
Off to the Beach Swimming Club, one of the original salt pools,
So cold that you eased yourself in, diving was left for the fools,

Tuesday

We had our hard task master, Tuesday was a sod of a day,
Bamboozled by arithmetic with loads of homework on the way,
'It's no dinner till it's finished' said mum, while dad gave a wink,
Never too keen to wait that long, for his tea that's what I think,

Wednesday

Wednesday was our sports day, but also country dancing day too,
Dancing was compulsory, otherwise no outside sport for you,
Wednesday night was youth club night, tight denim and a comb,
After it was the chippy for a black pudding on the way home.

Thursday

Thursday was the top twenty night, listening to our little set,
Radio Luxembourg could be terrific if reception we could get,
1961 was now a long time ago, but sometimes it was yesterday,
Some of that innocence of that time, somehow lost along the way

  Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades  




Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem

Comments

 Email Address

 

Vote for this poem



Sign Guestbook Read Guestbook

flower4

flower4

flower4
  [ Poetrypoem.com ]   [ Privacy ]   [Terms ]    [ Start a Free Site ]   [ My Poetry List ]
     ©2000 - 2022 ---------- Individual Authors of the Poetry.   All rights reserved by authors. 
mypoems477     pete      wordrider1      egp1      poetry2071  View All Poets
Newest Item: Light...
Im sabotaging my heart... Going fast in a speed of light! Copying photos fr ... More
Added: 2024-03-26  My Poetry List  PoetryPoem.com      Get a Free Site       Blogs     Stories     Premium Sites