Nostalgia
Nostalgia
‘Four lads in a two-man tent`, that is how we were,
Camping in the woodland, in the open air,
His foot was in my ‘earole’, my toe was up his nose,
Sleeping toe to tail in the nightly repose.
Sparrows eggs made omelettes, frying in the pan,
Corned beef hash and onions, also bread and jam,
Cut it into ‘doorstops’, and eat it with your stew,
Leave enough to wipe the plate, – well that’s what we would do.
Washing in the flowing stream, early in the day,
Nothing like a cat-lick to wet the sleep away,
Then a day of pleasure, all good mates as one,
Building memories to treasure, as the years go on.
Nothing was expensive, fun was there for free,
No tickets sold to ‘jump the brook’, nor none to ‘climb the tree’,
That time is in my history book, and when I feel the need,
I open its proud pages, for my nostalgic read.
Thanks lads, ( and wenches ) xx.
Mick.
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