Poem -
Turnip carving
Pumpkins..
We never had the luxury of..
We could only dream,
of slip sliding a knife.
into your oozing flesh..
Apple,peaches..pumpkin
pie..soon you will
all be mine..
No...our lot was turnip rot..
a Mangel Worzel..
Hard as rock..
sethered fingers and
Sprained wrists cutting
a jack o' lantern for
Hallows Eve..
They shone bright
with type B positive
throughout the night
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Comments
Awww such sadness to go through younger years being deprived of such the simplest of things. Great write, one that resonates with me strongly. All the best. The Fish of the Sea
Had to but in...we weren't deprived, we were free Mr Fish. Black bags and cut sheets on Halloween...Swedes and turnips to cut...hanging outside shops with a guy collecting pennies...homemade toffee apples from the lady up the road...raiding( stealing ) wood for the bonfire and bangers in buckets...all true...kids were kids and went out to play...we had fun, something that is alien to the kids of today...that's the true sadness. Pauline captures the essence of it all here...lol...we were blessed in our innocence...?
Wow! Sounds like the Good old days, unfortunately here in Aus, never really experienced the essence of Halloween like that... must be nice. Again kudos Pauline for creating such a fantastic write.
Xx...I remember it being hard work...best wishes
Lol Pauline...
'they shone bright
with type b positive
throughout the night'
They did..lol...I remember then went in the stew the next day ?????
Brilliant!! Pinned ?
I'd forgot about mischievous night, when you nicked anothers bommy wood...remember that...that's more like trick or treat, the Americans commercialised it...we had halloween dances at school..in the sixties..what a horror they was...never mind the make up...We dont have bonfires now but they were massive as a kid
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