A Poem To Which I Can Relate

family homeThis is a poem I can certainly relate to. Born at the end of the 1930’s and growing from my childhood without my mother, she died when I was just eleven months old. Living through the second world war and the austerity of the early 1950’s. Days of which I well remember the dangers, hunger, fear and much joy. This lovely poem captures it all.


I remember the corned beef 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 a freezer; or shop.

The kids were a lot more contented,

They didn’t need money for kicks,

Just a game with their friends in the road,

And sometimes the Saturday flicks.

I remember the shop on the corner,

Where biscuits for pennies were sold

Do you think I’m a bit too nostalgic?

Or is it….I’m just getting Old?

Bathing was done in a wash tub,

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.004

Author, Unknown…

God Bless and keep reading


About irishroverpei

Author of "Lily & Me", "The Royal Navy & Me" and Chapter XXl Armageddon. Writer, blogger and RN Submariner, antique automobile enthusiast.
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2 Responses to A Poem To Which I Can Relate

  1. Maggie's ghost says:

    Abandoned by his wife, this misogynistic, child abusing poet is reduced to eating ready meals, even though scratch cooking is cheaper.

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