1950 To 51
Life way back then when i was ten,
From wartime days, to peace again.
Few luxuries on ration books,
Not even scraps for feeding ducks.
But more important than our wealth,
To tend our needs the National Health.
As smoking chimneys mixed with fog,
Our lungs were filled with filthy smog.
Always hard up, no cash to spend,
My mum would say, make do and mend.
Bows and arrows, were once scrap wood,
We all took turns being Robin Hood.
Old pram wheels and packing cases,
Now soap box cars, for thrilling races.
In summertime, games in the park,
Promised my mum, home before dark.
Some orange juice with jam and bread,
Those poor little ducks, never got fed.
On sunny days we had picnics,
Saturdays our treat to watch the flicks.
In windy weather, flying our kites.
Our streets at night, lit by gaslights,
We raced pell-mell down helter skelters.
On top of disused air raid shelters.
Chumping wood for the Guy Fawkes fire,
Sundays, i sang descant, in the choir.
Wintertime rugby, for the school team,
Lots of energy, we let off steam.
Exam results were a big surprise,
Top of the class, winning first prize.
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