The Old Times

This one is for John Uzzell Edwards, the Welsh Painter, who died the other day. I knew his daughter, a long time ago.

The Old Times

I’m from the old times
The finger-tip dirt times
A times, Observer, Sunday Sun,
Sunday Express and Sunday Mirror.

Mass at eight
Newspapers at nine
Dinner next door,
At twelve thirty.

I’m from the old times.
The two-way family favourite.
The three bells Yorkshire,
and a frozen shepherds pie.

What happened in-between:
The smell of cooking,
and the sweet taste of ice-cream.
Is null and void.

I’m from the old times.
A time before midnight.
When everyone pauses,
and looks backward.

Mass at eight
Newspapers at nine
Dinner next door,
At twelve thirty.


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