13.9.30
Now work is over,And books packed away,
For we’re off for our holidays
All pleasure and play
We’ve packed our cases
And now we must run
For the taxi is waiting
So now starts the fun.
Nev's Grandma's poetry
Written while working at Ash Hill Lodge, 1928-1930
13.9.30
Now work is over,13.9.30
What is this thing called “It”5.7.29
The sky was flushed with a rosy hue20.6.29
Oh give me the country,
Before all your towns,
To roam at my ease,
O’er byways and downs.
Oh give me the meadows
Where children may play,
Without giving a thought
To traffic all day.
The country where children
Are sturdy and strong
In fresh air and sunshine
The whole day long.
12.6.29
We’ve got the painters6.4.29
Come hurry young ladies,16.3.29
Gentle Lady
Spare a penny,
As you travel on your way,
I am blind, and life is dreary,
Won’t you help me just today.
Gentle Lady
Won’t you heed me,
Won’t you pity my poor plight,
For I have no means of earning,
Since the day I lost my sight.
Gentle Lady
I beseech you,
Won’t you help me buy some bread,
For my wife is weak and ailing,
And my children must be fed.
Gentle Lady
I am willing
To toil morning, noon, and night,
But I cannot get employment,
Now that I have lost my sight.
Gentle Lady
Do not think,
That I beg with easy grace,
It is hard for I have pride,
But my children have first place.
1924
Cold and starlight was the night,9.2.27
Oh! What a life you bus conductors lead,8.2.29
Billy and I one Summer’s day,23.X.24
The season of Winter has gone,5.2.29
This world of ours is hard to beat.
And he who wins ne’er knows defeat,
And he who keeps a smiling face,
Will find the world a jolly place.
But he who grumbles, night and day,
Come good luck, or come what may,
Will find this world has got no place,
For one who keeps a gloomy face.
4.2.29
We flappers of today,
Are criticised by all.
Who seek us when we make life pay,
But ignore us when we fall.
And when we keep a smiling face,
To hide a heart that’s healing.
You say that we’re a hardened race
Incapable of feeling.
Our dresses are disgraceful,
To hear you people talk,
Our dancing you describe,
As just a lazy walk.
Our morals are debasing,
Our slang you term obscene,
But we are tired of hearing,
Of charm that once has been.
Now listen Elders one and all,
To what I have to say,
Remember times are different now
Than they were in your day.
29.1.28
Mother dear