THE TOWN CHURCH CHIMES By Brian Toomey
I went for a drive the other day,
back to the town where I used to play,
as a child in those long gone far off times,
to think again of the town church chimes.
Of the shop I used to go to get Mam's goods,
of the road I used to walk to get to the woods,
Shoni's pond past the wood,catching tiddlers,feet bare
Of the old engine house, what times we had in there.
Of the old picture houses,five of them then,
now all have vanished never to be used again,
of the school I attended from the age of three,
I see still standing,sharpening memory for me.
Of games in the lanes,and adventures with girls,
of street parties,and jazz bands with the zulu's whirls,
of the gullies I walked and the gate for luck I touched,
of the steps between the streets I ran up ,and down so much.
The street I used to live seems much smaller some how,
the colours of the houses much different now,
as I walked back to my car to drive away
with a tear in my eye I heard someone say.
''Hello butty,long time no see'',
It was nice to know old friends remembered me,
as I remembered them,in those far off times,
whilst listening again to the town church chimes.