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..
Author, Unknown...
Radar said
06:18 AM Jun 14, 2017
Hendo hi
I can certainly relate to the message in the poem.
Just how it was.
aussietraveller said
05:28 PM Jun 18, 2017
That brings back some memories from my childhood, and unlike todays kids I was allowed to fail which was character building and just made me try harder till I succeded.
blaze said
01:46 PM Jun 19, 2017
yep sure was good, people were lucky to live to 65. Some things I miss but if not for modern medical practices I would be blind or most probably dead. I can still go out bush and live like 50-60 years ago if I choose to (which at times I do) but the poor buggers before could not jump in the time machine and get todays benefits. I just wish people would see the harshness of reality when looking back.
cheers
blaze
A POEM TO WHICH I CAN RELATE.
And the bread that we cut with a knife,
And the men went to work, not the wife.
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..
Author, Unknown...
Hendo hi
I can certainly relate to the message in the poem.
Just how it was.
cheers
blaze