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Aug 2021
Up in the Attic
18 August 2021

Up in the attic a young boy laid his head.
An old army cot and mattress were his bed.
Cold in the winter, wool blankets were his stead.
Hot in the summer, an old fan buzzed mosquitoes dread. .

Painted wooden steps led up from the front hall.
Downstairs two sisters night time played toys and dolls.
Dinner cooked and boiled on an old wooden stove.
Dad made money with the Eaton’s truck he drove.

Never was much change in that cookie jar.
No nights for sitting long in local bars.
Front steps were broken, loose, and tinted rust.
Trip to school luxury would be a local bus.

Old family doctor had long passed eighty three.
When he came to visit never was a fee.
Cures came from lore and our family history.
Never saw the inside of a pharmacy.

Old dog slept on a torn and tattered rug.
Bed sheets from flour sacks withstood every tug.
Music came from Dad’s old banjelo,
He sang like Bing, every song we know.

Clothes came down the line from friends and family.
Most shoes and boots were found somewhere else for free.
Winter coats with full newspaper stuffed,
Warmed us through the winter’s coldest rough.

Wood stove stone warmed the bed at night.
Coal soaked with kerosine easy Mom to light.
Sometimes that old kettle gave the dog a fright.
Tea stayed in the teapot lid sealed down really tight.

Ice box held the dinner, carrots peas, and spuds.
Breakfast in an oatmeal box came easy with our  morning hug.
Washed our hands and elbows, faces were the test.
Checked each day in classroom for the very best.

Was a privilege when you the blackboard cleaned.
May you shiver when the bad boy strapped and screamed.
Said the good Lord’s prayer start of every day.
National Anthem sang the same old way.

Spelling tests were common, had to do the math.
End of each year we all hoped we’d passed.

Games out in the schoolyard made our bodies strong.
Most had joined the choir and forgot all those songs.
Summer went so quickly, winter stayed too long.
Friends and team mates were where you belonged.

Conkers and alley games always stood close nearby.
Also often bullies tried to make you cry.
Yoyo’s some swung and danced. Tricks that would enchant.
Ball games and soccer ran till all  need
huff and pant.

Were those few who won ‘bout every race.
Girls sat front of class who had the nicest face.
Hero’s of the football field stood big and tall.
Those with highest marks never seemed to fall.

Many years have passed us by, leaving hopes and scars.
Some of those in our class helped us plan on Mars.
Some now only found, parts in brine filled jars.
Youngest memories fade in daylight stars.
Written by
BTW
56
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