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Yes, write me a poem
About autumn leaves drifting on the wind
About snowflakes settling on your eyelids
Maybe about the gentle spring rain
Or walking by the crystal stream on a bright summers day
Take me back to your childhood
Of days spent in a tent
Of walks in meadows
Resplendent with the artists pallete of color
Take me into that forest where the birds so freely sing
Take me into a world of make believe
Of fairies and dragons
Of mermaids haunting songs floating across the sea
Yes, take me to those places, those beautiful things

Please don't take me to doom and despair
Of suicidal feelings
Oh my girlfriend/boy friend of three days has left me
I can't live without him/her
Don't give me feelings of deep depression
I'm not a phsychiatrist so I can't help you
Just give me poetry
Bad times
And yes also some very good times
Sunday evening was always bath time in our house
BATH TIME!!!
Well yes we had a bath
With a cold tap
But
Hot water came from a wood fired boiler in the corner
Hoping
Will it be my turn to go first tonight
Because with nine kids the rest went in two by two
So
Out with the first one then in went a saucepan full of boiling water
Then in went the rest, two in two out in with the water
But we never complained and rarely fell sick
Cooking
Mum had an old black wood fired range
On rare occasions coal if there was a little extra money
But oh what mum could do on/in that range
Come home from school and the air would be redolent with the aroma of home made bread
On the hob a great pan of bubbling rabbit stew made with veg from the garden and rabbits the older kids snared
Yes, good plain wholesome food
Television
Oh boy televion
A screen about 12 by 10 in a dark brown Bakelite case
Not new of course, we couldn't afford that
The back was permanently off so that every time it went wrong
Dad could jump up, reach inside and wiggle the valves
I'll never know to this day how he never electrocuted himself
I will never forget our toilet to my dying day
Out of the back door and turn left then in
A wooden seat under which was a large cast iron pail
Usually it was torn squares of newspaper but on special occasions
REAL toilet paper
Three times a week that pail would be taken to the veg garden and the contents buried
The following year we would have fantastic veg
Sometimes I wish I could go back to those days
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