BOYHOOD IN Consett
I was born in Consett,
Land of ice and snow
Ten months of the year was winter,
Didn’t you know?
We had to wear wellies and gloves
Nearly all year through
The sun appeared twice a year
When the sky was blue.
Consett then was linked with
Iron and steel
The men worked long hard shifts,
It seemed unreal,
The chimneys emitted great clouds
Of dust and smoke,
The air was foul,
It was anything but a joke.
The washing on the clothes lines
Turned from white to grey
The housewives had laboured long,
It spoiled their day,
The horse-driven carts with coal
Came down the street,
Our stone houses were cold,
The coal a source of heat.
The war was on,
For hours we queued for food
Sometimes supplies ran short,
In vain we’d stood
We had to find cover on hearing
The siren’s wail
We might have been bombed,
Hitler was on our tail.
We went to the cinema,
No TV in the house
Watched cowboys and Indians,
Popeye, Mickey the Mouse
We didn’t have much in our pockets
Except a few sweets
But going to the pictures then
Was the best of all treats.
The Reverend John Stephenson, Sunderland
AUTUMN TINGES
The leaves on the trees are changing now
To burnished gold, red and brown
Likened to the dancing flames in the grate
Soon they will come fluttering down.
One overnight frost will interrupt
And send them into shock
No longer will the trees take up sap
And so their yearly work is done.
Now they are bereft and lone
Standing stark all winter through
Waiting for the warming springtime
Their task to start anew.
Elizabeth Sayers, Spennymoor
SLITHER HITHER
After dark slimy slugs,
round the garden do slither,
Visiting tender, young plants
chomping hither and thither
Now gardeners get annoyed
at these unwelcome guests,
Employing cunning ways to nobble
these nocturnal pests.
Now there’s an old-fashioned trap
involving a dish of stale beer,
But is it designed to dispatch them
or is it meant to cheer?
One would imagine after slurping,
the slugs would feel quite tiddly,
And wearing a silly smile,
make their way home rather giddily!
PA Dee, Darlington
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