July 2003.
Do you remember all those years ago when we were just wee weans
Those were the times when we were told to be quiet and just be seen
We thought we must be midgets beside Giants that were ten foot tall
Why did everyone own those slavering beasts they lovingly called dogs
Summer days down School Street hill, racing our bogie's we would go
Mighty bows and arrows we made ourself down in the dense Calder wood
As years went by, things seemed to shrink and did not seem so tall
Thinking of pals who are no longer here brings reality close to home
So this poem is a tribute to my friends, who's memory will never die
* * * * * *
This poem is in memory of old friends who are no longer with us.
and used to play in middens and get our hands stuck tight in drains,
If you hit a Lassie with a snowball she sure would scream and bawl,
those were the days when we grew up in the village of Chapelhall.
and you swore your back garden was at least the size of Glasgow
Green,
There was that woman who lived up the road who's cats sat on the sill
green evil eyes made us run like the wind up the School Street hill.
and why was the bakers window built so high up the old stone wall,
Maybe it was an adult trick to stop us seeing all those creamy treats
I'm sure that aroma used to follow us home around the windy streets.
and why overnight did our tadpoles suddenly turn in to jumping frogs,
When we made fibreglass rods into missiles that could penetrate a
head
it was only a game that could have gone wrong with someone lying
dead.
then out would come the home made sleds as Winter brought the snow,
Television was a novelty with only one channel in black and white
so peever or football was what was played until the start of night.
and secret hideouts made us feel like the famous outlaw Robin Hood,
That big swing made of hawser rope I remember with great delight
unless you swung back into the tree,which gave you an awful fright.
and many of us sought out new adventures far away from Chapelhall,
In foreign lands so strange and hot we went our separate ways
not thinking about if we would return to the place of childhood days.
that we owe that village a vote of thanks no matter where we roam,
It taught us a lot about who we are and why parents are in control
you can take a person out of Chapelhall but certainly not their soul.
Big Geordie,Billy,wee Tommy and Tam,are now stars in the midnight
sky,
If I ever get a chance again to walk down beside the Burnie Brae
the reflection of their faces smiling at me will brighten up my day.
George Reilly...Tom McNeil...Billy McDonald...Tom Baillie..
| MacDonalds Clan | Scotsman's Lament | Cloud and the Butterfly |
| A Key to a Dream | The Tortoise and the Bear | Have You Ever |
| Wizards and Knights | Ghosts Of The Glen | The Last Dark Walk |
| The Shadow | The Pilgrim | Life | Sunny Days|
| The Story of Fergus from Drum-Na-Gad|
| Teardrops of a Child | Step Into The Light | Eve of Destruction |
| Fear not the River of Darkness | A Spider Called Bruce | WalkingShoes |
| The Ghost of Calder Water | Advice from A Wise Man |
| Shane the Bear | Wee Terry | Kat of Coolum Beach |
| Room or Tomb | Strangers or Friends | Penrith Follies | Granny Grump |
| Headmaster's Advice to a Numpty | Numpty's Reply to the HeadMaster |
| Moggy Mischief | TimeFlies | Only The Depth Varies |
| A Thought for Shirley | The Tikacat |
This Poem is the sole property of Freddie Mac, please have respect for the Author
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