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Smoke blew from the chimneys in the place where I was born streets were laid with cobbles workers summoned by a horn. Shops sold all and sundry and the keepers name was Ted I often bought my sweets there with pennies gleaned from lead. Our neighbor wore an apron with rollers on her head I could hear her climb her creaking stairs when she went up to bed. Mice lived in the skirting and they nibbled at the cheese with windows old and rotted they let in such a breeze. Memories of my old home and the good times that we shared but the houses were demolished and new-builds built instead.