Poetry corner

Down Memory Lane By Rosemary Twelftree, 71, from Northampton

“Oh me! Oh my!” how a word like nit nurse can ring a bell,

then thoughts of other things come flooding back as well.

Like throwing sticks up into trees to make those conkers fall,

and bikes with crooked handlebars, no mudguards or brakes at all.

Swinging from ropes across ponds, health and safety not known,

no hard hat on that Boneshaker and no smartphone.

Phones in red boxes on the street they’d stand,

no phone in your pocket just for your hand.

TVs at home? No, just for rich others,

Saturday morning pictures with a bob from our mothers.

A tanner to get in, a tanner to spend, time in the sweet shop, the choices… no end.

Kali ’n’ liquorice, Black Jacks, gobstopper,

A quarter of Fruit Salads or a Wall’s Woppa?

Making our own fun, just part of life,

no technology to cope with, no problems, no strife.

A teatime, a bedtime, “go play in the streets”, and food that was “good for you”, no edible treats.

School uniform, gymslip and sash, beret, satchel and tie,

holes darned in your socks, leaky pens, and stains of blue dye.

Blackboard chalk, ammunition for Miss, it came your way if her voice you’d dismiss.

Maybe the ruler or the flat of her hand,

telling parents at home time, they did not understand.

“Obviously you deserved it, they don’t slap you for nought,

stop messing about, you’re there to be taught.”

And taught well, I feel I must say,

It gave me the morals I still have today.

Modern-day kids should heed what we learned,

and realise in life, respect needs to be earned.