Follow by Email

Saturday, 7 January 2012

The Winter of 1947

                                          The winter of 1947
            
                        Could this happen again?I was ten years old, so I
                        remember it well. Get out your long-johns lads and start
                        knitting those woolen knickers girls, the big freeze is
                        on its way again!!!!!                        
                        
                        
                        Twas in the winter of 47, when the frost and snow did
                        bite.                      
                        With  temperatures  below zero for most of winters
                        nights.                        
                        The nation came to a stand-still, encased in ice and
                        snow.                        
                        When chiblains erupted on millions, on hands, feet and
                        toes.                        
                        Coal froze in the bath tubs, all transport was standing
                        still.                        
                        No trains came to the station to deliver the winter
                        fuel.                        
                        Snow drifts as high as lamp posts across this ice bound
                        land.                        
                        The people burnt their furniture to warm their kiddies
                        hands.                        
                        Power cuts were frequent just two years after the war                        
                        austerity was raging, which hit the old and poor.
                        
                        The old ones died in thousands throughout this frozen
                        land,
                        
                        No food was in the larder, no fire to warm their hands                        
                        they cried and died a lonely way, their bodies blue with
                        cold.
                        
                        Jack-Frost held out his ice bound hand to kill the weak
                        and old.
                       
                        Their will to live just faded, their breath was chilled
                        no more.
                        
                        Twas the year of 47, a year to remember well.
                        
                        Nature has it's funny ways to repeat this winters hell.
                        
                        
                        Peter Wicks (Snowman)                    
                        

No comments:

Post a Comment