This Ol' House

This ol' house where I was born and raised, Had no insulation and weren't double glazed. Had a slanted slate roof, it leaked now and then, Lots of places where you could build a den. Had a cellar all dark and fearful to be, Going down those stone steps really scared me. Had a coal hole out front and a karzie out back, We had a cast iron bath but hot water did lack. So no baths were taken in the bathroom upstairs, We all took turns in the tin one downstairs. We had a parlour which has a real leather suite, We weren't allowed in unless Mum played for a treat, On the lovely upright piano that was polished so bright, That room was only for guests to sit in at night, The kitchen was always my favorite place to be, Sat in front of that lovely coal fire waiting for tea. We had cast iron fires in our bedrooms at night, If Mum had some money a fire she would light. So snuggled up under Dad's old army greatcoat, We would all fall asleep before the fire went out. I left that old house when I was a lad of fifteen, Never to go back until I was well out of my teens. Mum had moved out to Salford a few years before, My sister stayed on for a few years or more he too moved out to live not far away, Then they knocked the street down because of decay. Now there's nothing there where we kids played football Even the historic pub over the road is an Islamic girls hall. Sometimes folk say it's not good to dwell on times past, But you can't just stop thinking once the die has been cast. © Dave Timperley 08 September 2016