Candles and nightlights flickering bright,
blackout curtains shutting out the moonlight.
Snuggle down cosy with blankets tight,
perhaps the war will end to-night.
Dripping setting from Sunday's roast,
spread so thick on Monday's toast.
Meat bones simmer on the old gas ring,
Pa's homemade soup,the 'real thing'.
Paper chains cut and glued,
beer in glass bottles brewed.
Christmas puddings with threepenny bits,
the Meccano present made to fit.
Sunday school outings upto Coombe hill,
my first ever train ride,so quite a thrill.
Walks over corn fields to the Bugle Horn,
crisps and lemonade upon their lawn.
A weekly soak in a round tin bath,
towelling off by a fire in the hearth.
A viewpoint from childhood scene,
growing up at sixteen,Beech green.
CANDLES&NIGHTLIGHTS
Candles and nightlights flickering bright,
blackout curtains shutting out the moonlight.
Snuggle down cosy with blankets tight,
perhaps the war will end to-night.
Dripping setting from Sunday's roast,
spread so thick on Monday's toast.
Meat bones simmer on the old gas ring,
Pa's homemade soup,the 'real thing'.
Paper chains cut and glued,
beer in glass bottles brewed.
Christmas puddings with threepenny bits,
the Meccano present made to fit.
Sunday school outings upto Coombe hill,
my first ever train ride,so quite a thrill.
Walks over corn fields to the Bugle Horn,
crisps and lemonade upon their lawn.
A weekly soak in a round tin bath,
towelling off by a fire in the hearth
CANDLES&NIGHTLIGHTS
Candles and nightlights flickering bright,
blackout curtains shutting out the moonlight.
Snuggle down cosy with blankets tight,
perhaps the war will end to-night.
Dripping setting from Sunday's roast,
spread so thick on Monday's toast.
Meat bones simmer on the old gas ring,
Pa's homemade soup,the 'real thing'.
Paper chains cut and glued,
beer in glass bottles brewed.
Christmas puddings with threepenny bits,
the Meccano present made to fit.
Sunday school outings upto Coombe hill,
my first ever train ride,so quite a thrill.
Walks over corn fields to the Bugle Horn,
crisps and lemonade upon their lawn.
A weekly soak in a round tin bath,
towelling off by a fire in the hearth
Candles & nightlights
flickering bright
blackout curtains
shutting out the moonlight
snuggle down cosy
blankets tight
perhaps
the war will end to-night
dripping setting
from Sunday's roast
spread so thick
on Monday's toast
meat bones simmer
..on the old gas ring
Pa's homemade soup
the 'real thing'
paper chains cut & glued
beer
in glass bottles brewed
Christmas puddings
with threepenny bits
the Meccano present
made to fit
Sunday school outings
upto Coombe hill
my first ever train ride
so quite a thrill
Walks over corn fields
to the Bugle Horn
crisps and lemonade upon their lawn
A weekly soak
in a round tin bath
towelling off
by open fire in the hearth.
a viewpoint from childhood
seen
growing up at
number sixteen Beech green
Year Posted 2012
CANDLES and NIGHTLIGHTS
Candles and nightlights flickering bright,
blackout curtains shutting out the moonlight.
Snuggle down cosy with blankets tight,
perhaps the war will end to-night.
Dripping setting from Sunday's roast,
spread so thick on Monday's toast.
Meat bones simmer on the old gas ring,
Pa's homemade soup,the 'real thing'.
Paper chains cut and glued,
beer in glass bottles brewed.
Christmas puddings with threepenny bits,
the Meccano present made to fit.
Sunday school outings upto Coombe hill,
my first ever train ride,so quite a thrill.
Walks over corn fields to the Bugle Horn,
crisps and lemonade upon their lawn.
A weekly soak in a round tin bath,
towelling off by a fire in the hearth.
A viewpoint from childhood scene,
growing up at sixteen,Beech green.
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2012
If only I was younger, I know where I'd want to be
To be with someone special, who wants to be with me
We'd grow into our tomorrows sharing each others joy
Children, one two three, two girls and a boy
We'd write about many things, live as true love declares
Even dancing naked in the rain, towelling we would share
Holidaying in the sun, this white man to become tanned
Taking each day at a time, true love our only plan
Watching our children prosper, into adults they'll become
Our earlier years will live again, loving under the sun
I'm loving someone special who wanted to be with me
I'm glad we met those years ago, now in the arms of she
.
We smile, it's raining
Jovial in dancing joy
Soaked to the skin
Warm hearth welcomes us
Naked to bare, towelling
Goosebumps diminish
Pillows, rugs, two lie
Face to face, lips now caress
We, attraction flows
Candles flickering
Undulating shadows grace
Unification
.
CANDLES&NIGHTLIGHTS
Candles and nightlights flickering bright,
blackout curtains shutting out the moonlight.
Snuggle down cosy with blankets tight,
perhaps the war will end to-night.
Dripping setting from Sunday's roast,
spread so thick on Monday's toast.
Meat bones simmer on the old gas ring,
Pa's homemade soup,the 'real thing'.
Paper chains cut and glued,
beer in glass bottles brewed.
Christmas puddings with threepenny bits,
the Meccano present made to fit.
Sunday school outings upto Coombe hill,
my first ever train ride,so quite a thrill.
Walks over corn fields to the Bugle Horn,
crisps and lemonade upon their lawn.
A weekly soak in a round tin bath,
towelling off by a fire in the hearth
Listen to me read this poem on youtube under name ichthyschiro
Coal-red eyes protruded from your bust
As we swaggered in mock-bravado.
We were afraid of you Charles
And the shadows you cast
From within cast shadows.
Chinese Apple replacing Adam's
And a terry-towelling cap to repel the '02 sun -
Resurrected in '74 -
It was, Charles, a time of rebellion.
Steel-blue Winfields survey the source
Of your pipe-dream...
How you must detest, yet now, that coinage!
And do you see, Charles,
From your self-inflicted throne
(With inscription below)
That it was no pipe-dream?
Perhaps death has cured your blindness.
I Harbour hope, Charles,
With the wisdom I have gained
Since '02
Back in '74,
That you see your feats fulfilled...
And mine forgiven.
Candles and nightlights flickering bright,
blackout curtains shutting out the moonlight.
Snuggle down cosy with blankets tight,
perhaps the war will end to-night.
Dripping setting from Sunday's roast,
spread so thick on Monday's toast.
Meat bones simmer on the old gas ring,
Pa's homemade soup,the 'real thing'.
Paper chains cut and glued,
beer in glass bottles brewed.
Christmas puddings with threepenny bits,
the Meccano present made to fit.
Sunday school outings upto Coombe hill,
my first ever train ride,so quite a thrill.
Walks over corn fields to the Bugle Horn,
crisps and lemonade upon their lawn.
A weekly soak in a round tin bath,
towelling off by a fire in the hearth.
A viewpoint from childhood scene,
growing up at sixteen,Beech green.
SHOPPING TOGETHER
We went to the wood shop together
To select for the job the right timber -
Ooh, - laths, two-by-ones, maybe plywood ?
She was unmoved - finished, unfinished, one-side-good ?
Mmmm, - beech or oak or pine?
See the fine line and polished shine ?
She felt little emotion for my dowelling,
Any more than paper towelling.
She heard no timbre in struck timber,
No note she could remember :
It sent her to slumber
To encumber her mind with lumber -
It was all so much mumbo jumbo.
Standing with arms akimbo
No matter where she stood
It was just wood, wood, wood, wood.