General Chat

HERE ENDETH THE NEWS

As someone who remembers rocking chairs,
And a bath each Saturday night;
I need a bin for newspapers?
We 're-cycled' ours on site.

For lining shelves and table-cloths,
Draughty doors, worth more than gold;
Stick four sheets up your jumper,
"Or you'll catch a death of cold".

Window curtains were made of newsprint'
Real ones were Sunday best;
Except when expecting visitors,
Stuck-up auntie most impressed.

Kites and paper aeroplanes,
Christmas decorations on the cheap;
All held in place by special glue,
The secret? - ours to keep.

Wadded up to light the fire,
Double sheet to 'draw' the same;
Whoosh! - flies up the chimney,
Or your rug is now aflame.

Take twenty to the chip-shop,
Walk home with portion free;
Eating; head down; reading;
That damn lamp-post - "oh my knee!".

Now the one we all remember,
Cutting papers into squares;
Radio Times were the softest,
'Dailies' were kept as spares.

Spend a penny hut was down the yard,
W.C. minus H2O;
The last place you would choose to visit,
But 'no-no' soon changed to 'go'..

Left hand held a candle,
News-sheet in the right;
Singing; foot against the door,
In case someone else just might....

"Oh God, there goes the siren",
Can you imagine the unlikely scene?
Waddling down the path-way,
"Oh look, she's wearing green".

Our parents deserved a medal,
Trying times in many ways;
But we were just small children'
Time has made them 'good old days'.

............................
Thank you for reading. Happy days

wonderful!

have you thought about joining our writing group Harry??

Harry,
I loved your poem. It brought back memories.
Looking forward to reading more f your poems.
SueBx

Harry ,
That was good , it brings back some of those memories
Hazelx

Harry
That's great.
It bought back many happy memories although I'm not quite old enough to remember the sirens.
In rural Wales we used the newspaper squares for many years!!
Take care
Von

I remember it well.

Thank you folks for the kind words - much appreciated.As far as the writing club goes, I am not so sure. I posted a poem a week ago, but apart from that, I am a very occasional writer.
Only write when i get the urge, which at my age is only occasionally in the writing mode and what you are thinking.

thanks to all Happy days

Thank you Harry.That reminded me of going to my gran's house.

hope you don't mind I sent it to my elderly friend in Oz and he loved it and sent this back.....................


AN AUSTRALIAN POEM



"Goodbye Grandad"



Poor old Grand-dad's passed away, cut off in his prime,

He never had a day off crook - gone before his time.



We found him in the dunny, collapsed there on the seat,

A startled look upon his face, his trousers 'round his feet.

The doctor said his heart was good, - fit as any trout,

The Constable he had his say, 'foul play' was not ruled out.



There were theories at the inquest of snakebite without trace,

Of redbacks quietly creeping and death from outer space.

No-one had a clue at all - the judge was in some doubt,

When Dad was called to have his say as to how it came about.



'I reckon I can clear it up,' said Dad with trembling breath

'You see it's quite a story - but it could explain his death.'



'This 'ere exploration mob had been looking at our soil,

And they reckoned that our farm was just the place for oil.

So they came and put a bore down and said they'd make some trials,

They drilled a hole as deep as hell, they said about three miles.



Well, they never found a trace of oil and off they went, post haste,

And I couldn't see a hole like that go to flamin' waste.

So I moved the dunny over it - real smart move I thought,

I'd never have to dig again - I'd never be 'caught short'.



The day I moved the dunny, it looked a proper sight,

But I didn't dream poor Grand - dad would pass away that night.

Now I reckoned what has happened - poor Grand-dad didn't know,

The dunny was re-located when that night he had to go.



And you'll probably be wondering how poor Grand-dad did his dash --

Well, ... he always used to hold his breath

Until he heard the splash !! '



Brenda x

Thank you Brenda,
Good Australian poem, and from your second line I will now call myself an international poet.

best wishes Happy days

Both excellent verse, and lovely to see you posting, Harry

Lizxx

Thank you Harry, I loved the poem.

In Frontier NZ - Newspaper lined the walls - it would billow in the wind that came through the Timber cladding. One young girl who became an Author was not allowed any books to read apart from the bible - so she read everything that was on the walls much to her father's chagrin.


Persey (my dad was a Harry)

Thank you girls for your kind postings. New Zealand - I'm getting really international now..
May you both take the pill which apparently may now enable you to live to 100,

very best wishes Happy days