A Life Afloat
Our moveable house painted castle and rose,not a life we would have chose.Eighteen fifties harsh and mean,coal cargo so nothing stays clean.Doff your cap,touch your forelock every two mile at the gatekeeper's lock.
Clothes dry on a washing line strung,home for a time whilst the toddlers were young.As their number increased and grew ,places to sleep all too few.Family life impossibly hard so back we went to a tied cottage in Anchorage yard.
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2017
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