Reminiscing On a Childhood
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REMINISCING ON A CHILDHOOD
I have never once considered myself, unlucky, in anyway
I’m still very grateful for what I have had back in the day
All those childhood memories; of feeling safe and secure
Within the folds of my parents, I could grow and mature
Never forgetting the responsibility that my family beared
Whilst earning a living; with the rod always being spared
Long summer days; labouring in fields of green and gold
With the fruits of their labours; boxed up, off to be sold
The afternoon dinners that was to all such a grand affair
With us all given thanks and praises, and the odd prayer
Ten sat at that table; as there was always one son away
I still remember all of this; even, to this very blessed day
Granma sat at one end, grandfather, always at the other
Everyone else just crammed in as sitting next to another
I always got the place, to the side of my old Grandfather
To the wives that were seated, next to my Grandmother
The food served, from ornate painted platters and bowls
On side plates were lovely freshly made warm bread rolls
When not in use, displayed on the old wooden shelf rack
Grandma said it adds history if you found a chip or crack
To evenings spent shelling peas eating some as we went
As the men watched the TV inside to see any local event
Winters nights; were all spent playing Monopoly or cards
Cheating was rife, but; was done with, laughable regards
With laughter all over; we then, slowly retire to our beds
It does not take long for us all, to be in the land of zeds
Early rise and shine for me, then a walk down by the sea
With Grandpa’s wisdom, putting the worlds, rights to be
Never ceased to amaze me, just what my Grandpa knew
All about my ancient ancestors that I did not have a clue
But; all fell into place with all the years that I have grown
To be all trapped within the lines, as I again write a poem
Maybe in some way, show gratitude, to my folks gone by
That I was listening and your history from within does lie
Within every part of this soul of mine with a certain pride
All of this history; from a mere walk down by the seaside
Mind I always called it quits, with his Robbie Burns songs
As; by running up the beach, somewhere else I belonged
I never understood 'em on account of his Scottish accent
But; more than happy was he, as into my ears were sent
He loves Rabbie; even said, we were, related in some way
Alas; I've yet to find proof of this, as to this, present day
But; we are related, to that poet, Donald Glenmore Shaw
Recited within that book; Highland Legends, by Glenmore
We are even distantly related to that fart George B Shaw
After one of his relatives, William; landed on, Irish shores
I ponder on my own poetry and, wonder, what they think
As Grandpa says; I will let you know after I've had a drink
Indiana Shaw . . . : )
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2020
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