Roadmap 1951 to 2021

I'm going back to post-war school,
Skipping with my milltown mum,
Jumping over a rancid rainpool,
Spitting back my old chewed gum.

I'm sitting down in a cute class,
Saying post-war morning prayers,
And it will come to pass, to pass
That someone, somewhere cares.

I'm going back to my woeful work,
Clocking on to a day not mine,
Our motto reads:'Never shirk',
We chant it on the assembly line.

I'm sitting down in a cute care home,
Waiting for my covid meal to arrive,
Around my neck hangs a timely tome
Giving advice on how to survive.

Poetry by Christopher Fernie The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 17 times
Written on 2021-02-22 at 21:58

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josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
We are of an age, Chris. Your trail parallels mine in many ways. Your touchstones are very evocative. I especially enjoyed “Saying our post-war morning prayers”