A POEM TO WHICH I CAN
RELATE
I remember the
bologna 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 cookies 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 Mama 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