Those Washday Dreams
The washing’s all done
But it’s raining outside,
The coal fire is burning
So I sneak in to hide
Between fireplace
And clothes horse,
The fireplace being
The only heat source.
A refuge of warmth on
A cold winter’s day
‘Til mam comes to find
And chase me away.
The washing is paramount,
Essential to be dried
And I absorbed the heat
By lying there inside.
A game of hide and seek
Trying to judge just when
Mam wasn’t looking
So I could sneak in again.
Those draughty old houses
With no central heating
And my cosy little tent
Just took some beating.
A fact of life then that
No matter how we tried
We sat there in the cold
Until the washing was dried.
Those good old days weren’t
Quite so good it seems,
But memory is selective
When filling day dreams.
Copyright © Terry Ireland | Year Posted 2023
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