A Poem For Old Geezers.

[greenlands]

From my mate Des in Auz.

 

A poem for old geezers!

 

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 was sold.

 

Do you think I'm a bit too nostalgic?

 

Or is it....I'm just getting old?

 

I remember the 'loo' was the lavvy

 

and the bogey man came in the night.

 

It wasn't the least bit funny

 

going "out back" with no light.

 

Hung on a peg in that loo,

 

were interesting items to view,

 

from newspapers cut into squares.

 

It took little to keep us amused.

 

Dirty clothes were boiled in the copper,

 

with plenty of rich foamy suds.

 

But the ironing seemed never 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.

 

But a huge fact not hereto mentioned

 

in this tale of nostalgic rejoice,

 

is the reason we all "enjoyed" our lot

 

We had NO BLOODY CHOICE

[buster151]

All so true

[Kyleakin Lofts]

Great.

[paddymac]

So true

[Wee wull]

Brilliant! Remember it oh so well.