When I was
twenty-one, in 1964
My parents had
to give me ‘the key to the door’
I wouldn’t
have to be home for the 9.30 curfew
And they
couldn’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t do!
Mum and Dad
didn’t see much of me
I was working,
dressing windows, in Birmingham you see
Then I’d catch
the bus to the home of Laurie
He’d been my
boyfriend since I was fourteen!
At twenty-one you
could marry without parental consent
So that’s what
most people did, so we just went
And rented a
cottage in the country – no hot water or stove
I cooked over
the fire, went outside to the loo, lived on love.
But times were
hard
So I got a job
with the police
Whilst Laurie
cut down trees
Then along
came Louise.
I remember how
it was
when I was young
-
and twenty
one.
3 comments:
Thank you so much for posting, Liz, and for keeping Val's spirit alive through the blogspot..so very much appreciated 🌞
Yes it is so good we are able to read Val's work. I never met her, but enjoy meeting her through her writing .
I can just imagine Val reminiscing on this and then composing this fabulous poem. I miss Val so much; she was my first true friend in Bridgnorth over 8 years ago.Val became ill while we were writing a play based on Mary Webb’s novel ‘A house in Dormer Forest’. I know it was a lifeline for Val at a time when she could do little else. What a shame it was never performed even though we had countless rehearsals.
Thinking of you Val as always.
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