Spangles In My Pocket

‘Spangles In My Pocket’. A reference to life in the 70’s where growing pains, ripped trousers, hole ridden shoes and dirty knees where nothing compared to the suburban comfort of friends, football and neighbourly unity…..

Spangles in My Pocket

Spangles in my pocket
takes me back to days,
Where marbles rolled the urban streets
In orbs of psychedelic maze.
 
Conkers were strung and battered
In sport where kids evolved,
Into fighters not having to use their fists
Whilst knocking 50 timers cold.
 
There was football on the local greens
With Bobby Charlton and his mates,
Hide and seek only after dark
Until many hours late.
 
Spangles in my pocket
Takes me back to days,
When milk bottles rattled at five in the morning
As they hit our doorstep bays.
 
Rubik cubes outplayed Action men
high platforms were worn by boys,
Chopper bikes had pavements full
As flared trousers added poise.
 
You couldn’t hide forever
Behind doors that were never locked,
Open arms always greeted neighbours
And our roads were never blocked.
 
Spangles in my pocket
Takes me back to days,
When ‘worry’ was an unused word
And long summer’s here to stay.

spangles

©Nick Hawkins, all poetry only rights reserved 1/1/12

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