Nostalgia History Poems

In the morning light, a milk bottle stands,
A relic of bygone days, in my trembling hands.
Embossed with nostalgia, a link to the past,
From the dairy...

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Cobbled street is lowly lit with shadows all around.
Street lights flicker in the wind and now the rain is falling down.
Glistening cobbles under feet as...

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   In the name of a certain Kennedy
     I hope you'll take me seriously

   Ask not what...

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Black lives matter. Me too.
Not my president. Give peace a chance.
Luck runs out. I like immigrants. 
Power must be challenged by power. 

Equal and opposite...

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Crabs
Small feet pounding the pebbled path,
Desperate to escape
From imminent danger.
Eight legs and two claws
Advance in their thousands
Upon their prey; the child.
Refuge is sought in an...

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In the '60's I thought we were headed to the Stoned Age
    Psychedelics were huge, PCP was everywhere
  Yet by the...

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I had a happy childhood at first
Yeah I played with dolls to a tragic
Extent. It was a dream of some
Type of female existence.  I...

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A well-water pump cranks out its iron-water
    crooked wire remains -- once, sturdy chicken coops
  The brackish, muddy area over there,...

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Our Revolution sought limitations
On imposition of regulations,
But supplications met deprecation
And castigations not reformation.

Such condescension sparked protestation
And contemplation of separation;
This supposition stirred apprehension -
A premonition of...

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Say bye-bye to these:
    "Hold, please." (Hold what?)
    Typewriter Repairman Ads
    "Dial this number..." (What's 'dial?')...

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About the end of times when
Carts were hauled by Shires,
Coal was king and homes
Were heated by open fires,
A seemingly huge dark figure
From my early childhood...

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Swimming in an outdoor pool, 
drinking from  a fountain,cool;

Swings and slides in childish fun ,
summer picnics in the sun;

A Sunday Brassband trumpet call,
in open...

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REMEMBERING WHO WE ARE

Spiralled rainbows ! 
burnished tapestries of trials
Birth, love, death ripen 
Winds of Change for our country’s call
Battles in a corner buried, we...

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I can remember passing through
this town as a child,
stopping for a pie
on our way north.
Now it’s bypassed – barely more
than a clot lodged 
in the...

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I suppose everybody, at a certain age,
Wishes they talked to parents more,
Wished they learnt a few details of
The many generations  gone before.
Oh I traced...

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