Terry Ireland Poet Rhyme

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.

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Jenna Logan January 18, 2023 at 3:34 PM Sorry I can’t relate, Terry, but I always enjoy reading your rhyming stories. Terry Ireland January 19, 2023 at 12:42 AM Thanks Jenna - Its just me showing my age

Speaks Volumes January 18, 2023 at 3:16 PM Shopping day was my worst, l remember it still we lived on top of a very steep hill. Dad needed the car to go to work, No deliveries then to the back of Bourke. Mum and l dragging that cart full of food, but somehow she always stayed in a good mood. Thanks for reminding me Terry of the not always so good, Good ol days. Terry Ireland January 19, 2023 at 12:45 AM Thanks Wen - there was sreal luxury between the washing and the fire. I certainly remember carrying huge bags of groceries as well. But, we survived.

Ilene Bauer January 18, 2023 at 12:12 PM wow! this is something i never experienced, terry, but you've painted such a vivid picture, i can pretty much imagine the whole scene... Terry Ireland January 18, 2023 at 1:52 PM Thanks ilene - it was pretty standard all over England still into the 50’s and 60’s. SeeTom’s comment below, But still happy memories - can still feel that stolen warmth

Tom Cunningham January 18, 2023 at 10:40 AM I remember those days well Terry, when the fire died out it was bed and it was so cold it felt damp. The worst was the toilet at the end of the garden, kids today don't know they are born. Happy memories lol. Tom Terry Ireland January 18, 2023 at 1:48 PM Poverty is relative and I wouldn’t wish those days back on anybody but you’re right Tom. We didn’t even have piped hot water. And, yes, still happy memories.