Make Do and Mend

Make Do and Mend, Years ago we had jobs We had fun and money in our pocket Things were much better then Once you could go out the door And never ever lock it But still so many struggled To buy food and pay the rent There were a lot of big families And money was soon spent We’d borrow from our neighbours There were no pound shops back then Or super savers People used to keep pigs And chickens in the back yard Cooked real meals made cakes And baked their own bread Because times were so hard We’d often eat bread and jam Beef dripping And cooked with Lard Growing your own Veg in an allotment Or your garden Radishes made you belch Sprouts made wind I beg your pardon Basin haircuts to save a few bob Acorn coffee or Dandelion tea Powdered egg from the Co Op During the war You couldn't get such luxuries anymore Unless it was from American soldiers Things like silk stockings Were as rare as chicken teeth And cow eggs So Ladies used gravy browning And drew a line up the back of their legs To make our shoes last longer We'd have seggs And a bit of board made a sledge If you think people didn't have sex back then Let me tell you, friend With so many off to war you may never see them again War babies where did they come from? Scraps with chips Salt and vinegar on your lips Afterwards, you'd use the newspaper Toilet roll was a luxury We saved a bit A stick of Rhubarb a bag of sugar Twig that you could chew And some wildflowers for your Mother We’d do a thing called make do and mend Sew socks or darning as it was called Back then A hole in your trousers where your flesh peeped through We’d sew a patch over the hole And make do and mend There was a dressmaker in almost every street Who'd sew the patch on for you and take up your hem If an arm of our glasses broke we didn't throw them away We'd stick a cloth plaster over to hold it together It didn't look too good But then they were ok People would make up bicycles from old ones off the tip A bit of cardboard in your shoe Or a sock in the toe end To stop your toes coming through The Rag and Bone man With his horse and cart You couldn't tell him And Steptoe apart The old tin bath by the fireside Ready for your Dad when he came home from work From the steelworks or the pit We had coal fires and in the winter we’d Gather around making toast on a toasting fork And keep the fires lit With logs and tree branches from the wood It would save a bit A lot of the less fortunate ones relied on second hand A shirt from someone who just died Table from aunt Mabel Sideboard from next door Open draw for a cradle We also wear our siblings hand me downs I’d have to wear my sisters So embarrassed when I went to school And walking through town Tea warmers on our Brown Betty teapots A half-full biscuit tin Dirty finger marks Clues to where us kids had been The local pawn shop did a brisk trade Clothes wore on Sunday Taken back on Monday People had things on the slate Pay a little each week when we could We’d hide when the rent man came And be behind and he’d be after our blood The pictures and old movies Provided an escape From the war and troubles back home The Cinemas were prolific back then and packed You were never alone We made our own entertainment Had street parties on the pavement Make our own plays Go for long walks together Play cards dominoes and Ludo Whenever there was bad weather Listen to the Wireless set In our Jim Jams With our milk Horlicks or Olavltine After a wash our hair still wet We made dolls from rags Our own cards for Mums and Dads Knitted and sewed Play with Lego and Mecharno We never sterilised things for babies like they do today Kids would put muck in their mouth And we’d just let them play A teat on an old bottle You were away Now Mums have to take the kids To the Doctors every day Yes many struggled back then But people seemed more happier And not so stressed Hard workers When British Steel was the best People tended to have morals and be ethically minded Not being money blinded We had positive role models Something to look forward too And lots of things to do They call things today progress But all it is Is a great big mess Too many knots to untie We may not be able to change the world But the small world around us if we try People used to pull together And give a helping hand But now all that seems gone And I no longer understand ‘’I may be old fashioned But I’m damn proud to be old fashioned And my roots ''And Doc Martin boots.’’ Peter Dome©2019.