Childhood Snippets


Life was simple when I was eight –
a bookworm Mum, a bossy older sister,
and a Dad still in the RAF,
the war just over, so no more fear
but still not much to eat.

Going to the pictures twice a week
for romance, adventure and laughter
with a cartoon, some ads
and the newsreel thrown in
for the one and ninepenny treat.

The Gang with a den
on a bombsite to play in,
read in and act out stories.
A noisy old pre-war bus
grinding painfully up the hill
past the rec and the shops
and the treasure house library
to the prim convent school.

When I was nine – we moved
from suburban conformity
to live in the country beside the Thames
where I ran wild for a year or five,
on the river, discovered horses,
had a ball until we moved again –
much resented – back to London.
Then I had to grow up.

The Octpowrimo prompt for today is to go back to when we were eight years old.  The result for me is  rambling snippets of free-form non-poetic history.  I may come back to this.


All poetry, prose and pictures posted here, except where otherwise stated, is my own, and may only be used elsewhere with my expressed permission. Please don't be inhibited from correcting my bloopers and making suggestions: Most of what I post here is instant, ill-considered and off-the-cuff, in serious need of editing.
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10 Responses to Childhood Snippets

  1. You have to do more with this! You made me want your childhood.


  2. colonialist says:

    This really allowed my imagination to wander …
    What a tragedy, moving back to London after some obviously far better stretches of the Thames!


  3. restlessjo says:

    There’s just no comparison with childhood nowadays, is there? Enjoyed your (our) memories. 🙂


  4. You capture these images so vividly!! They’re like black and white snap shots re-touched with the greatest of colors! Beautiful, Viv!


  5. Shah Wharton says:

    I loved having a nose into your history Viv. Sound idyllic, till it hints at change. X


  6. Thanks for the wonderful snippet into your childhood. My father was born in 39 and in 1940 my grandparents moved from France to Liverpool so that my grandfather could do his military duty and work in the factory making bullets. I have the stories from my grandmother about those years, I really appreciate your poem within the context of that period. Wonderful writing Viv. 🙂


  7. Lindy Lee says:

    Better in the country than the city? Across the Atlantic from you, 1949, was 9 cents for the picture show & a penny for popcorn for me. Enjoyed your nostalgic poem. Thank you…


  8. Misky says:

    We spend a very long time indeed ‘growing up’, Viv. Pity that the process must start so early. Wonderful poem. Thank you for a lovely read this morning.


  9. so very picturesque and things were coming alive I imagined you growing up. Lovely poem indeed.


  10. A story it was appearing in flashlights in front of my eyes. I loved the last para the most!
    I love your style 🙂


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