REMEMBERING THE PAST
Remembering being young,It was sheaf knives and BB guns.
Climbing tree's skinning knees,
We never tried to kill anyone.
In our council house community
We never locked back doors.
Neighbours were always welcome,
To walk in for cake and coffee.
We had go carts for the summer,
Sledges for the winter. Once a week.
Dad would walk to Hailsham and back,
To buy us kids some sweets.
On one of the occasions dad went to,
Hailsham market bought a donkey.
Rode it back to Eastbourne,
Then sold it to someone else.
We never went hungry
Dad would always come home
with either piles of fish
Or the odd rabbit, plenty of roadkill
Mum was always left to descale the fish,
All us kids had a lucky rabbits foot.
If we had plaice we had a whole one each,
We would go for a picnic on the downs
Dad would bring along his things,
Cut the grass, build a fire.
Cook for all of us,
Then put everything back as it was.
Often we would have meadow mushrooms,
Or some other country fruit.
To go with the meal,
I loved potatoes cooked in the ash.
Often we would come home,
With bows and arrows.
Home life was good,
School life wasn't.
Like all families we squabbled,
I was to immature to appreciate.
All they did for us until it was to late,
Still dyslexia and dysculcia was virtually unknown.
Short story by Alan J Ripley
Read 69 times
Written on 2024-07-18 at 00:13
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