Read Poem: CHILDHOOD IN THE 1960s, BY STEVIE TURNER

No clouds on the horizon to mar the day,

When I and two friends go outside to play.

We pass the man on the corner who stands there and dribbles,

Causing us three girls to rush past him and giggle.

Time for Knock Down Ginger, British Bulldog, Jacks, and French Skipping,

Or collecting tea cards for swapping and flipping.

All over the East End of London we would roam,

Until one look at a watch would cause us to run home.

Home; not to iPads, iPods, MP3’s and Internet,

But to 3-channel TV, library books and Etch-a-Sketch.

Diaries I’d write, penning words in my head,

That I’ve kept to this day in a box under the bed.

On Saturdays we all had to help our mums,

To dust, polish, and hoover up crumbs.

Then out to the market the three of us would trot,

To hang round the record stall…