Memories
My Thoughts
Whiston, the village where my father was born,
The village where my ancestors lived and died.
The place where I visited Mr. Smedley on The Green
In the cottage by the Abdy Farm gate, no longer there.
And as a child watched chaff blow along Chaff Lane.
Whiston, the village nestled by the brook,
Amongst the trees with meadows nearby.
The place where we would take flowers
To grandmother's grave up in the churchyard.
And then walk across the cricket field,
Picking wild flowers along the lane to Pinch Mill Farm.
Here father had worked as a young man
Before he had married Mum and I had been born.
Many times we visited Auntie's house
At No. 3 Cowrakes Lane and then walked down the hill
Back in the days of WW2 and Dad was overseas.
Now, from across the Atlantic Ocean, I look back
And have many happy memories of Whiston,
The village where my ancestors lived and died.
The village where my ancestors lived and died.
The place where I visited Mr. Smedley on The Green
In the cottage by the Abdy Farm gate, no longer there.
And as a child watched chaff blow along Chaff Lane.
Whiston, the village nestled by the brook,
Amongst the trees with meadows nearby.
The place where we would take flowers
To grandmother's grave up in the churchyard.
And then walk across the cricket field,
Picking wild flowers along the lane to Pinch Mill Farm.
Here father had worked as a young man
Before he had married Mum and I had been born.
Many times we visited Auntie's house
At No. 3 Cowrakes Lane and then walked down the hill
Back in the days of WW2 and Dad was overseas.
Now, from across the Atlantic Ocean, I look back
And have many happy memories of Whiston,
The village where my ancestors lived and died.
Shirley Parent 16/10/04
Refer to Gallery 3
