alt="Moms"
IP: 24.17.96.101
Posted on 11/22/2015 at 01:41:41 PM by Terri
A poem
> I remember the bologna of my childhood,
>And the bread that we cut with a knife.
>When the children helped with housework,
>And the men went to work, not the wife.
>The cheese never needed a fridge,
>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 bottle,
>With the yummy cream on the top.
>Our dinner came hot from the oven,
>And not from a freezer or shop.
>The kids were a lot more contented,
>They didn't need money for kicks,
>Just a game with their friends in the road
>And sometimes the Saturday flicks.
>I remember the shop on the corner,
>Where candies for pennies were sold.
>Do you think I'm a bit too nostalgic?
>Or is it....I'm just getting old?
>Bathing was done in a wash tub
>With plenty of rich foamy suds
>But the ironing seemed never ending
>As Mama pressed everyone's 'duds'.
> I remember the slap on my backside,
>And the taste of soap if I swore
>Anorexia and diets weren't heard of
>And we hadn't much choice 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
Replies:
- Re(1): A Poem - By Shara aka mom 11/22/2015 at 11:29:48 PM
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