see
when I was young
the old people were respected
most if not all of them
born into the Victorian age
and they had wisdom by the
bucketful which hung weekly
on the washing lines,

my Nan knew those times
some were dark times
bomb bursts on the front line,
times
but mostly
her younger times
full of joy,

Grandad then was only a boy
met Nan and more joy,
my
Dad and his siblings came later