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| | From: philip113 (Original Message) | Sent: 12/8/2008 8:59 AM |
Eleven till nineteen were interesting years, Full of hopes and mistakes and hidden fears. Classwork,homework,marks,examinations, Rugby,girlfriends,and high expectations. Grammar school,sunday school,university, Good times,bad times with adversity, No pain,no gain,was the name of the game, Trying to impress,and make a good name. The village of one's birth is a world of its own. Those hot spots of youth are now built upon. The mushroom fields,and water cress streams, Still pop up and flow through the stuff of my dreams. Those sunsets and dawns still happen like before. The same bushes fruit in the yard near the door. I hear that same blackbird in the mind's ear, It's song overflowing with a melody so clear. Once in Royal David's city was that village so fine, My father's face was black when he came from the mine. The water in the bath by the fire turned black, While my mother's scrubbing board brought some whiteness back. Pastries peppermints,cakes and bread Cooked in the oven while she made the bed. I was a child of God,and He sent me here, And gave me an earthly home,with parents kind and dear.
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PS CORRECTION - Thirteen to nineteen. Thank you Zy for the nudge. We don't want the teens to kick off too early,now,do we,though eleventeen and twelveteen do seem to be going on nowadays. |
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Lovely memories showcased here, Philip ....and I think from the 10-11 year olds I saw snogging the other night, they are the new teenage years !! (And no, my friend and I have no idea where their parents were) |
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Oooers Phillip, gorgeous poem...youth has simular traits, and yet we deal with it differently...enjoyed the read. Mariaxx |
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Great poem Philip, and glad you survived the rugby girlfriends |
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Thank you Steve,Jenny,and Maria! The learning curve is fine,so long as the wave doesn't come crashing down on us,and we emerge safely from the other end of the tube. |
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A vivid walk down memory lane, Phillip. You even remember the "Spots of youth"! |
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