Tuesday, 13 January 2015

A Nostalgic Moment via Rhyme

I came across this poem that simply begged to be reshared. It is not original to me, nor do I know who the author is, so for now it remains anonymous. If someone does know who wrote this, or what the actual title is, please do drop me a comment so that proper credit can be given.

In the mean time, do you remember times like this? Enjoy.

I remember the bologna of my childhood,
And the bread that we cut with a knife.
When the children helped with the housework,
And the men went to work; not the wife.

The cheese never needed a fridge,
And the bread was so crusty and hot.
The children were seldom unhappy,
And the wife was content with her lot.

I remember the milk from the bottle,
With the yummy cream on top.
Our dinner came hot from the oven,
And not from the freezer; or the shop.

The kids were a lot more contented,
They didn't need money for kicks.
Just a game with their friends on the road,
And sometimes the Saturday flicks.

I remember the shop on the corner,
Where cookies for pennies were sold.
Do you think I'm a bit too nostalgic?
Or is it ... I'm just getting old?

The baths were taken in a #3 wash tub,
With plenty of rich foamy suds.
But the ironing seemed never ending,
As Mama pressed everyone's 'duds.'

I remember the slap on my backside,
And the taste of soap if I swore.
Anorexia and diets weren't heard of,
And we hadn't much choice what we wore.

Do you think that bruised our ego?
Or our intuitive was destroyed?
We ate what was put on the table,
And I think life was better enjoyed.

Photo Credit: Brittany Miller Martin; Flickr Creative Commons
Source: via Facebook
Author: Unknown

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