I remember the Cheese of my Childhood

Last night during my stay in Albany, there was a senior citizen who read the next poem:

I remember the cheese 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 an ice chest
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 billy
with the yummy cream on the top
Our dinner came hot from the oven
and not from the fridge in the shop

The kids were a lot more contented
they didn''t need money for kicks
Just a game with our mates in the paddock
and sometimes the Saturday flicks

 

 

I remember the shops on the corner

where a pen'arth of lollies was sold

Do you think I'm a bit to nostalgic

or is it......I'm just getting old?

 

I rmember when the loo was the dunny

and the dunny man came in the night

It wasn't the least bit funny

going out the back with no light

 

The interesting item we perused

from the newspaper cut into squares

And hun on a peg in the out house

it took little to keep amused

 

The clothes were boiled in copper

with plenty of rich foamy suds

But the ironing seemed never ending

as mum pressed everyone's duds

 

Remember the slap on the backside

and the taste of soap if I swore

Anorexia and diets weren''t heard of

and we hadn't much choise what we wore

 

 

Do you think that bruised our ego?



or our initiative was destroyed

We ate what was put on the table

and I think life was better enjoyed

 

Author unknown to me.......but in a way it makes sense.