A Fifties Childhood.

 

Walk to school by field and hedgerow,

Cap pulled down against the rain,

Eating rhubarb dipped in sugar,

Eke the rations out again.

 

Boxy cars with side-valve engines,

Temperamental at their best,

Petrol one and nine a gallon,

No real need to pass a test.

 

Fridges proffered by the gas board,

Gas flames generating ice,

Only twelve inch television,

Just a black and white device.

 

See the King on ‘Pathe’ newsreels,

Mr Churchill with cigar,

Children’s flicks all in for fourpence,

Humphrey Bogart ‘what a star’.

 

On the tram to old Leeds market,

Traders crying out their wares,

Home again in smog and darkness,

Policemen lead with carbide flares.

 

Friends who never knew their fathers,

Bought it in the D day push,

Queues outside the better bakers,

Almost trampled in the crush.

 

Home made jams and cloudy honey,

Home cured bacon salty dry,

Stately sermons on a Sunday,

Better not to steal or lie.

 

Touch your forelock to the parson,

God is represented here,

No salvation just religion,

State support and sanctioned fear.

 

Bicycle through empty byways,

Catching bullheads in the stream,

Luxemburg till seven thirty,

Then to bed and time to dream.

 

Companionship unique and worthy,

Scuffing knees and breaking bones,

Truer friends I never wanted,

Memories like shattered stones.

 

Smallpox and the fear of conflict,

Watch the commies Stalin’s crew,

Mother said that things are better,

There’s a better life for you.

 

But all in all that life was gentle,

Hazy days of sweet content,

Lazy days that were my growing,

Coins of childhood safely spent.

 

Walk the fields of recollection,

Take the tram down memory lane,

All of yesterdays tomorrows,

Comforting the heart and brain.