Best Past Times Poems

Five stones
                closing times
radiograms and
              seventy-eights
school caps
              sticklebacks
saturday flicks,pooh sticks

Charabancs
              steam trains
linoleum
              oil cloth
mangles
 ...

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A football *memory
Just like this sport I am very old
so if I may be so bold
this memory I'll unfold

each day,when school was out
off to a green,hereabout-
the teams often numbered seventeen!

with our jumpers as posts,
no boots ,referee or
coaches ,you'd see

back and forth we'd be
'til tired out,and...

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Past times have come,
they lurk within the darkness,
as I sit here fighting to continue on with my journey,
tears roll down my face thinking of....
the things that no longer exist. 
Lost a Tia to death by drugs, a mother to abusive men and drugs, 
a father...

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Our Past, Times Mirror
Miracle Man
10/26/2024

When we look into time’s mirror,
we behold only our past.
Both pleasing and unhappy,
that during life we’ve cast.

Our past is totally ours,
and our protected read only file.
Memory cause some to grimace,
to others it brings a smile.

We make no attempt to alter,
the things...

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Past Times

Old men dreams
Embraced in the fading
Luminescence
Of the waning moon

Some buried
In the soils
Of the forgotten
Upon the shores
Of lands once visited

Flashing memories
Of the vigor and valor
Giving cause
For false bravado

The twinkle in their eyes
Long since dulled,
No longer erect
Is their verve,
But their
Semi virile
And absent minded ego
Could never admit
Such...

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Some love fast cars and planes,
Buses,tractors or trains-
In the saddle,the place to be,
One horse-power,sits well with me.

| Year Posted 2010...

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Sat and watched some nostalgia today,
All about Salfords death and decay.
Sad to see but it had to be slain 
It had to come down to rise up again,
But the way it was done was all in vain.
New houses for old was the alluring cry,
No one...

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Reading
Begins with Rupert Bear,
Until that was found too square;
The Just William came on the scene,
But soon became a childish has-been.

Youth-filled reading,a melanged mix,
Biggles & squadron,sixty-six;
The hero,Algy & Ginger against the hun,
Adventures that made him number one.

Onto Enid's Famous Five,
Long before PC, could deprive;
Julian,Anne George & Rick
In books,fast moving and slick...

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CANDLES&NIGHTLIGHTS
Candles and nightlights flickering bright,
blackout curtains shutting out the moonlight.
Snuggle down cosy with blankets tight,
perhaps the war will end to-night.
Dripping setting from Sunday's roast,
spread so thick on Monday's toast.
Meat bones simmer on the old gas ring,
Pa's homemade soup,the 'real thing'.
Paper chains cut and glued,
beer in...

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We try to relive them, we try to forget them
Past times have shaped today, some we have defied
Some have died in unopened pages, others live on in folklore
They never go away, no matter how fast the future comes along
The past times are not past, they...

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Golf is
a 'umbling game
It's all in the mind,just
One swing away from a problem
hiding....

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A CRICKET vignette

mid-summer,evening league cricket.
Fifty years fade from view
they’ve labelled it
Twenty-Twenty & think
of it as something new.

T20 is its new name
a  fast action cricket game
Now, has  world-wide acclaim-
An evening sport of my youth
Re-packaged..in truth ..long -in-the-tooth

NOTE:Twenty overs a side cricket,under lights, is set to rival...

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THE HACK
Out of the yard,my daughter and me,on a hot
summer day of Eighty-three.Hastoe to Cadsden,
there and back,eight hours in the saddle,for our
first all-day hack.Onto the canter path,down to
Paines End,through Fox Lane the route did wend.
Into a copse ,keeping the pace to an even flow.
Up to Dunsmore,past the Black Horse, we followed
the course.Chequers, Pondswood,down  hill to the pub.
Horses tethered for a rest,we ate our ploughmans with
a pint of the landlord's best.Back in the into the saddle,
at the canter to retrace our steps and in Hastoe as the
clock struck four,to stack the tack on the stable door...

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TRAIN SPOTTING
Clutching sandwiches, pencil and pop
we awaited the eight  forty-five,tickets
in hand;we scrambled aboard the
LMS, carriage, with  engine and van;
from the High Street, ‘ere long smoke
billowed  over the vale ,as we chugged along

Non stop, five miles the grimy coach rocked
and swayed. ’All change, All change’ loudly,
the...

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RITES OF PASSAGE
Each Christmas we all gathered there,
‘Aunt Clare, has more room ,after all’ with
her trestled tables and chair.
Grown-ups swigging their brown bottled ale,
young-uns, lemonade with paper straw,
VE style parties, once more.
Lunch over, the voice decibels rose,
raucus laughter oiled by the beer
brought forth more plates of festive cheer.
Cards slid noiselessly over the American
cloth, copper coins switching from pot to pot,
enthralled children watching on, ‘til
banished with a special treat, to the cold
stairs, or now bare front room, or to play
out in the deserted  twilight street.
Every year the ritual was much the same,
a  family ‘bring and share’ , long before
 such gatherings were given this name...

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