John McCullagh August 6, 2004
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I remember the smell from the kitchen,
of bread and semolina buns
cats and kittens asleep by the fire,
and those Sunday visits from the nuns.

And the days we sat in the sunshine
to let our long hair dry,
it seems so short a time ago,
but the years have hurried by.

There was the Christmas pudding
that Mommy would make,
her soup and dumplings too,                                         

but the best thing I remember..
her jam and coconut cake.

Daddy used to fall asleep
in the big, old leather chair,
and his girls would take turns
playing at messing up his hair.

Our street was always busy,
with boys and girls alike,
there was handball games, and peggy,
or a spin on someone’s bike.

Maurice O’Hagan would walk on his hands,
up the street and down,
My Aunt Alice would play the accordion,
and act like such a clown.

I remember the family rosary,
as we knelt at the kitchen chairs
we’d laugh and get so silly,
till Mommy’d give us her stares.

There was Beauty Williams, and Digger O’Hare,
Our Bunny and Big Tim…
But O’Hare’s old dog was wicked,
and we were all afraid of him.

Uncle Michael had his bakery truck,
which we loved to see stop by,
with a little luck a tasty treat,
he’d have for us to try.

They were happy times for all of us,
although we never thought
no matter how hard we’d like them back
such dreams can not be bought.

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