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5. Memories of Good Grub
I remember in the fifties we had dripping on our bread
Sprinkled well with salt for extra taste
I remember black pork jelly from the bottom of the dish
Was a relish to be savoured not to waste?
I remember fetching winkles always sold to us in pints
That took ages to get out with just a pin
I remember all the winkle shell looked like a load of snails
And the juicy ones that dribbled down your chin
I remember lumpy porridge milk and sugar on the top
Setting hard enough to cut yourself a slice
I remember having nightmares after having two large bowls
To describe it one would never call it nice
I remember red polony in its plastic sort of skin
Tried and tried our best but couldn’t make it spread
I remember trays of faggots from the butchers for our tea
Though some folks called them savoury ducks instead
I remember being told that I’d remember
The good things as well as the bad
I remember those large Yorkshire puddings
Where the best thing that we’d ever had
poem
by
David Threadgold
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