Good Old Days

I remember the smell of the polish
The hissing of steam from the pots
The songs on the radio playing
And my nose dripping with snot

Mum would grab me and wipe it
With a dexterity practised before
Leaving my nose like a beacon
Me screeching as I went out the door  

My older sisters were singing
As they , the house chores fulfilled
The sun cut a beam through the window
And there on the Lino it spilled

Dust particles in its light they floated
Not seen when its power was gone
Yet they danced to the radio music
As the sun through the window it shone

These days are now but a memory
But oh what a treasure they are
Nothing I have can replace them
Neither jewel nor silver nor car
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

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Johnson Avatar
February 14, 2014 at 10:40 AM
Reminicing's not a crime. To cherish memories of a sweet time. It might be all that some have left. When loved one's leave a heart bereft. So yeah, I get it, looking back. But living there's a bit off track. :):):) Peace. :)
Lyle Avatar
February 14, 2014 at 2:18 PM
Thank you Robert once again. I guess my words were not in vain. Now Peter spread the news around. That there is a new poet in town. I am getting more reviews. that for me is very good news
Onclaud Avatar
February 13, 2014 at 11:03 AM
hello, robert.. the language is personal and accessible, and the flow is casual yet charming.. remarkable piece of good ole days highlighted by radio music that binda a kin.. huggs
Lyle Avatar
February 13, 2014 at 12:07 PM
thank you for your kind words. So nice to get comments I have over 200 views on one poem and about 3 comments. Thank you once again. Regards Andy Lyle
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