There's Something In The Water
I've returned to Penwith after 20yrs,
I choose to travel on my feet,
to avoid the parking and one way system,
perchance, old friends to meet.
As I'm walking homeward
there's heading straight for me,
an old schoolmate of mine, named Dave,
a pleasure for to see.
We stop and chat, Dave's put on weight,
he said "Meet me up the pub".
then "Come with me, back to our house,
my wife will fix some grub."
It wasn't far, we got there soon,
and it knocked me off my feet
to find his wife was little Maureen,
she used to live down Chapel street.
Maureen hasn't changed a bit,
I said "I'm 16 once again,
you haven't changed,
you're still the same
as I remember way back then."
But she didn't recognise me
until I said my name.
Then it all came back about Carol,
mums and dads and all that game.
Another day I walk the beach,
on the cycle path until its end,
t'ward Long Rock, and heading for me,
there were Vivien and Tren.
Viv didn't know me either at first,
and that really was "the pits",
but as we talked we both recalled
seeing "Fantasia" at The Ritz.
Viv told our story about us as kids,
explaining to her friend,
she called her Elaine, then I knew,
Elaine's an old flame, known as Tren.
Viv's the taller, with reddish hair,
and it was she who caught my eye,
but if I saw Tren in the street,
I'd never pass her by.
On a walk to town from Eastern Green,
across the Tesco front,
I pass a lady carrying bags,
both loaded to the hilt.
Another lady, on Chyandour corner,
loaded up the same,
I knew them both as pretty girls
but couldn't find their names.
The first was Dorothy, they called her Dot,
I think she married Mike,
an old schoolmate, they ran a pub,
the "Fish" in Newlyn, if I'm right.
The second was Trish, a childhood beauty
with long blonde wavy hair,
still a beauty, she hasn't changed,
her dad, Ivor, wallpapered our stairs.
As I return from shopping on an early summer day
a short, slim, dark-haired lady
leaves the complex where I stay.
We pass, and as we do,
I turn and speak her name to check.
She heard me say "Diane", then turned
and threw her arms around my neck.
At last a girl who recognises me,
a joy, I have to say,
but my rejoicng was short-lived...
... 'cos then along came Kay.
I spoke to Kay, we stop and chat,
I give her facts, we have a laugh.
Kay agreed, my facts were right,
she had to go, but was most polite.
She turned to leave and head for home,
but as she vanished from my view,
turning back, she laughed,
"Thanks for the blast...
but I don't remember you".
To see these women I knew as girls
and find they haven't changed,
there must be something in the water,
or have I gone deranged?
Maybe there's something in the water
used to make beer for the pub.
Either way, best not tell the Water Board,
'cos they'll put the water rates up.
© Copyright:- 31 July 2008 - Kenneth G Woolcock
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