Page 7 - News and Views Spring 2023

We skipped in line to an age-old rhyme
With long ropes turning to keep the time

On Saturdays my brother and I

Would ride our bikes to the park, nearby,

With bottles of pop, sandwiches and

FREEDOM!

We pedalled along the car free roads

And nobody worried!

So that I might climb the trees

My mother made some dungarees

From black-out material.

And on the pockets that she made

were sweet embroidered flowers displayed.

On Sundays our family was together

Making the most of the Summer weather.
We travelled by bus from the grim, dark city
And walked on the wild, open Moors.

“There’s a kestrel up there”
My dad would declare, pointing skywards.
Or perhaps he’d find an old Roman road
We loved to hear the stories he told.
We picked blackberries for jam
And found wild flowers.
We ran with the wind and laughed at showers.
Then back on the bus went home again
For tea and “Children’s Hour.”

Parties With so many children in the class
There were lots of birthday parties.
From her lovely gown of wedding-white
Mum made me a dress so fine and light.
Fit for a dancing princess”, she said.
But would real princesses, I wondered,
Have to wear curling rags all night?

With a head full of knobs could sweet dreams follow,
Have to wear curling rags all night?
All the Mothers put on a spread:
Meat-paste sandwiches, fruit malt bread,
Crisps and jellies and home-made tart
Birthday cakes were a work of art.
Conjured from love and dried eggs,
With REAL ICING ON THE TOP!
With the candles blown out, time came
To make a wish – it was always the same:
Dear God, Please let the War be over.”
AND EVENTUALLY IT WAS!!

In Sheffield a victory tram paraded the streets,
Illuminated, decorated, red, blue and white.
The street lights bloomed like golden flowers,
And in every household, windows blazed with light.

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