Late 1940s England
the square
was packed
& the high street full
meat&veg seemed plentiful
market barkers
drew the queues
with jokes
impromptu
shoppers filed
neat& formal
in sainsburys greggs
& home colonial
the bacon slicer
shuttled back& forth
rashers scaled
in halves&fourths
bread mealed smooth&strong
butter patted shaped oblong
cheese cut with twangy wire
toasted later on an open fire
ham sliced from the bone
spuds bagged weighed in stones
tea from open square tins
packet-served with a welcome grin
'woollies' snackbar smells
'elevenses' hunger time to quell
one mug of ovaltine must'nt dally
so shortcut thru' market alley
where auctioneers tones rise&fall
above the sheep&cattle stalls
then off homewards at a trot
last pennies spent in feaseys sweetshop
on the train bridge 'spotted' numbers new
waited whilst the 'cutler' raced thru'
along pebble brook time to climb a tree
on this day shopping was made coupon-free
Categories:
woollies, nostalgia,
Form: Rhyme
the square
was packed
& the high street full
meat&veg seemed plentiful
market barkers
drew the queues
with jokes
impromptu
shoppers filed
neat& formal
in sainsburys greggs
& home colonial
the bacon slicer
shuttled back& forth
rashers scaled
in halves&fourths
bread mealed smooth&strong
butter patted shaped oblong
cheese cut with twangy wire
toasted later on an open fire
ham sliced from the bone
spuds bagged weighed in stones
tea from open square tins
packet-served with a welcome grin
'woollies' snackbar smells
'elevenses' hunger time to quell
one mug of ovaltine must'nt dally
so shortcut thru' market alley
where auctioneers tones rise&fall
above the sheep&cattle stalls
then off homewards at a trot
last pennies spent in feaseys sweetshop
on the train bridge 'spotted' numbers new
waited whilst the 'cutler' raced thru'
along pebble brook time to climb a tree
on this day shopping was made coupon-free
Categories:
woollies, memory, nostalgia,
Form: Rhyme
Slight chill to the mist laden air
A clinging to warmth, homebound lairs.
Bring down the trunks of warm woollies,
Lay out soft scarves, gay similes.
Sneakers come out, sandals go in,
November enters cold and clean.
Whispering frosty sweet nothings
Migratory birds taking wing.
It’s a time for hot chocolate
Snuggling under cosy blankets
Taking a book to bed to read
November’s heart in ink, to bleed.
With a Mont blanc pen or onscreen,
Edit the draft, and send it in.
Old soul November’s days have rhyme
Hushed melodies yearning to chime.
Month before advent, wintry Lethe
Take stock of life, hold on to myth.
Categories:
woollies, change, nostalgia, november, weather,
Form: Lay
Freaking frigid today, wear your woollies
Spring's just around the corner, no need for hoodies
The promise of warm temps
A bunch of outdoor events
Serving coffee and cookies and homemade goodies
Categories:
woollies, spring,
Form: Limerick
The year is galloping at an alarming pace
You want to yell whoa!
Where did spring go?
You feel like you’re riding a runaway horse
Helplessly away from the usual course
Last year didn’t go so fast
Life was just slower in the past
Quick, book a summer holiday
Double quick, it’s nearly May
Hurry, airfares are soaring
Or it’s Bognor again – boring!
Yikes, pumpkins grinning in Tesco, steady!
Can’t be that time of year already!
Winter woollies, scarves, a mitten
Where’s my wool, must get knittin’
Snow swirling outside my window pane
Footsteps crunching down the lane
Next year is creeping nearer
I just hope things won’t be dearer!
Categories:
woollies, december, winter,
Form: Light Verse
~The Hot Spell Is Over~
Watching the clouds gather
There is thunder in the air
After a beautiful week
It really doesn’t seem fair
We finally cast off winter woollies
Then sat with hankies on our heads
Tomorrow I suppose the Wellingtons are out
And we put back on our winter threads.
Our poor bodies don’t know what to do
From freezing to frying all in a day or two
Part of life’s rich pattern I can suppose
Life is short as the saying goes
Live it large as they now say
I think this means we should go out and play
Get our kit off in the kid’s paddling pool
Kick our heels we are nobody’s fools.
Grasp it now before it has gone
Make someone smile - just anyone
The air pressure rising leaves our skins moist
The air is thick and steamy as on us it is foist
Pressure flies are landing dropping from the skies
Blown out of the atmosphere before our very eyes
Sitting on the picture frames like little specks of dust
A flash a thunderous bang to come - we know it is a must
The thunder bounds around us with its lion-like roar
Taking the hot spell with it - but we hope not for evermore.
© 28/05/2012 ~GG~
Categories:
woollies, nature, winter, winter,
Form: Light Verse