Tuesday 5 May 2009

Sycamore Road

when I were three my father came out the army
he was a baddun a baddun
he followed my mother and he killed her
he follows my mother and he kills her
I got married lost my husband early
we suffered survived through it
my brother were like me ginger hair
I got nobody but I got friends we all entertain
my father ginger tall slim
red hair like me before the war
small and pleasant she took us he
I’ve never forgot it I survived with it
haven’t suffered with it I’ve plenty friends
I have a photo a nasty piece
my father was hanged I was three
a good life aunty turned me out like a queen
I can cheer anyone I’m not bragging
three ministers come to see me t’other day
relies on me friends Wood Lane Church
on a Sunday all get together plenty neighbours
one that won’t give up perseverance
a nice little flat ground floor
give me
a knock come in
good neighbours all to look in
open door Sycamore Road
there’ll be some gathering
(on a Friday have a cream cake and if we don’t
have a vanilla slice)
it sticks in my mind

Alice W

No comments:

Post a Comment