Lasting Memories |
by Dorothy (Ingle) Rawnsley
I can remember, when I was a child, that I lived in a village
called 'Thornton-le-Fylde' ....... Where trees stretched
from Cleveleys right down to Burn Naze, and our
playgrounds were meadows, on long summer days.
Faces and places from faraway years, return with the
memories of laughter and tears ...... The gala processions
with horses and carts, flower-bedecked children, with joy
in their hearts.
Those were the days when sorrows were shared, with
neighbours and friends who showed that they
cared, although times were hard and our pennies were few,
our childhood was rich, with the pals that we knew.
And watching the scenes, like a sentry on guard, the old
Thornton windmill stood proud in its yard .... Witnessing
times that were gentle and mild, when 'calmness'
prevailed, in our Thornton-le-Fylde.
Now I am older, but still, just the same, my pride stays as
strong as when life was a game, knowing that others will
also recall, those happy young years, when love sheltered
us all; -- And we are the ones who, above all the rest,
were given a childhood so joyously blessed.
Written for the love of it, by Dorothy