May 29th, 2007

To the pain clinic to see if they could wash my blues away.

For four or five years I've suffered pain,

There was nothing to lose, all to gain.

Onto the bus from Barney old town,

Hit a few potholes on the way down.

The sun was in the heavens, all was fine,

We had to be there for half past nine

Found the day surgery unit,

The waiting room armchairs soft and sweet,

Smiles on the nurses' faces, sure was a treat.

They said we may be there for most of the day,

We didn't wait long, it was fair to say.

My lovely wife Margaret went with me

To see that all went well,

For with nigh on 50 years with me,

She could have many tales to tell.

Soon a young student nurse came for me

Helen was her name,

Checked all of my paperwork

(Two other nurses did the same).

Back to the waiting room, A few more minutes spent,

Then off to see the doctor To sign a form of consent.

Staff nurse Geraldine Owens took me on a long hike down to the theatre, (I should have brought me bike.)

Into the theatre, the lighting there was fine

The doctor and smiling nurses stood smartly in line.

I'd donned my theatre gown, Couldn't fasten it at the back,

As I lay on the operating table on my tum, it felt draughty from the back.

The nurses were superior, the doctor sublime

As they tried to take the pain from this 76-year-old body of mine.

Staff nurse Geraldine wheeled me steadily out of the door,

Took me to a waiting place, (I thought I was having some more.)

they offered me food and Something to drink,

I thought that was strange and started to think.

After two hours waiting,

A nurse came along and

I asked if and when I was going to theatre.

Staff nurse Geraldine said "Now then Fred, for two hours you've been in recovery, So now get out of that bed.

Staff gave me my clothes, I was over the moon, while she went for my wife in the waiting room.

Staff took us to her office to give some advice,

It was hardly big enough to house ten mice.

Staff said she was there for 12 hours that day

What a shame to treat our doctors and nurses that way.

Millions have been spent on all sorts of things,

Wouldn't it be better to build them a few extra wings?

These doctors and nurses do a fine job.

We certainly would all be in trouble Without this wonderful mob.

Fred Wallis, Barnard Castle

A SEACOALER'S TALE

I'd like to walk along the beach

but just for now it's out of reach,

I will not cry, I will not fret, it won't be long before I'm free

To gaze and walk along the beach,

to hear the waves crash and roll

I feel it deep inside my soul,

As for footprints in the sand,

come on, friend, take my hand,

I'll tell you tales of new and old about my quest to find black gold,

Men worked so hard in wind and rain

to collect the coal and show no pain.

Night and day the tides arrive,

I watch the waves as they roll in and look for signs upon the sea,

I love this work, it kept me fit,

My mother says when you grow old you'll regret the days and the coal you sold.

In all the years in your quest for gold,

My joints they ache, my hands they crack, My time again - I'd go straight back.

Harry Wells, HMP Holme House

GRANDFATHER'S GRANDFATHER

My lovely old grandfather is very, very tall

He looks so splendid standing there, his back against the wall,

His worn old face is happy too, life really makes him tick,

And as it's half past eleven now, you'll need to make it quick;

For if you come at twelve o'clock, he'll really talk to you,

And time it will move swiftly on, he's lots more things to do

He knows he can just count and count, he's good at maths, you see,

Just counts away, and counts all day, my grandfather for me.

He keeps me right in everything I have to say and do,

He tells me if it's one o'clock, or half past one or two,

And in the night when I'm abed, awake and cannot sleep,

He reminds me of the time of day, and helps me count those sheep,

When morning comes 'tis quite a delight, to hear grandfather chime

Whether it's six, or seven o'clock, or half past eight, or nine;

He never makes a slight mistake, he's always, always good,

And looks so majestic standing there, now have you guessed? You should.

He was my father's father, now what d'ya think of that?

He doesn't need any clothes to wear, not even gloves or hat,

My father's father gave him to my father years ago,

His rhythm and styles immaculate, he's neither fast, nor slow,

Yes I'm positive you've guessed, about my lovely clock,

Standing so sedately there, he hears 'bout every knock

Upon my door, when friends they call, but I'm sure that he would rather

just tick and chime, and tick away, This lovely old grandfather.

Mrs Winfred Richardson, Shildon.

DAYS OF YESTERYEAR

Flying kites and pillow fights

Snowball fights and Christmas lights

Desperate Dan and Superman

The Beano and The Dandy

Bus rides to the sea-side

Roundabouts and penny-slides

Children singing, deck-chair bringing

Sandcastle digging, windmills spinning

First packet of crisps, The smell of fish and chips

Bike rides in the countryside

Jam and bread eating, birthday treating

Pencil drawing, wireless playing

Pictures queueing, front sea viewing

Cartoon showing, musicals booing

Cowboys chasing, all guns blazing

Bowery boys acting, everybody laughing

Corner shop, Messages run,

Two oy's of ham, or a tin of Spam

Bought with happiness, coppers

Threepenny bits, tanner and bobs

Sunny days, winter gales

School caps to safety hats

Pigtails to ponytails

Short pants to long trousers

Happy days, innocent ways

Sunshine days, old-fashioned ways,

Hard-up days, large penny days

Goodtime days, goodbye days

NL Kellet, Sunnybrow