HARD TIMES
I was born in Dronfield in the nineteen twenties
So that makes me a Dronfeldian citizen.
And I’ll tell thee this now in those far off days
Tha’d got to learn to look after thi sen.
No national health service, no holiday pay,
No dole when tha’d got no job to do.
Tha had to go begging to means testing men
Who were abaht as compassionate as flu.
They’d cum round and look at possessions tha’d got
To see if tha’d owt valuable tha cud flog.
Or put into hock wi pawnbroker man
And then tha didn’t get enough to feed dog.
Now some folk were well off but majority was poor
And alas! I was born into the latter group.
Bread and dripping or jam, were our main weekday meals
But on Sundays we had a treat of lentil soup.
On Mondays me mam used to go to butchers shop
To buy pigs trotters and a sheep’s head she’d seek.
She’d ask butcher to leave eyes in sheeps head
To see us thru rest of the coming week.
Now don’t get me wrong we had our good times
And when we had a few pennies to spend.
We’d tek off to cinema on Palace Walk
To see owd Laurel and Hardy and friends.
Then as the years rolled by I’m happy to say
The hard times got a lot better by far.
We had jobs to do and money to spend
On a pint of beer and our favourite chocolate bar.
Now I’m living in hope in owd Dronfield
That we’ve seen the last of those hard times.
And pray they never come back to haunt us
For the sake of your grandkids and mine.
By
Alfred Weston
© Copyright Reserved 2003
So that makes me a Dronfeldian citizen.
And I’ll tell thee this now in those far off days
Tha’d got to learn to look after thi sen.
No national health service, no holiday pay,
No dole when tha’d got no job to do.
Tha had to go begging to means testing men
Who were abaht as compassionate as flu.
They’d cum round and look at possessions tha’d got
To see if tha’d owt valuable tha cud flog.
Or put into hock wi pawnbroker man
And then tha didn’t get enough to feed dog.
Now some folk were well off but majority was poor
And alas! I was born into the latter group.
Bread and dripping or jam, were our main weekday meals
But on Sundays we had a treat of lentil soup.
On Mondays me mam used to go to butchers shop
To buy pigs trotters and a sheep’s head she’d seek.
She’d ask butcher to leave eyes in sheeps head
To see us thru rest of the coming week.
Now don’t get me wrong we had our good times
And when we had a few pennies to spend.
We’d tek off to cinema on Palace Walk
To see owd Laurel and Hardy and friends.
Then as the years rolled by I’m happy to say
The hard times got a lot better by far.
We had jobs to do and money to spend
On a pint of beer and our favourite chocolate bar.
Now I’m living in hope in owd Dronfield
That we’ve seen the last of those hard times.
And pray they never come back to haunt us
For the sake of your grandkids and mine.
By
Alfred Weston
© Copyright Reserved 2003
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