Daily poem

And memories returned,

Of childhood days and happy times,

And lessons truly learned.

There stood my village schoolhouse,

Surrounded now by weeds.

Sweet roses covering every wall,

And wild flowers spreading seeds.

The school bell now was silent.

Tears fell as I waited there.

I remembered when I rang that bell,

Saying - be late, kids, if you dare.

So many children learning facts,

So many dreams begun.

There, in the silence, I heard again

Our laughter and our fun.

With sandwiches in our pockets,

Not drugs or vicious knives.

We picked flowers for the teacher,

And planned long and happy lives.

Then came that 'second' awful war,

And the world began to burn.

The innocent childhood we knew was gone,

And never would return. By Mrs L Tweedale

Newquay Avenue, Ainsworth, Bolton

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.