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'Latimar' - Hullavington - Wiltshire
Maurice Wicks
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So Latimar is to be filled in,
Well I do think it be a sin.
With the news a pang in my heart did rend;
Tis like saying goodbye to a dear old friend.
Though to school I aint been for many a year,
Oh the memory comes back very clear.
Of wintery days when the frost held hard,
We never played in the old school yard.
The schoolmaster would say with a genial smile;
"Now off thee all go to play a while.
All the boys and girls now run away quick,
And have your fun while the ice be thick.
There's never nothing half so nice
As sliding about on the smooth clear ice.
It always makes thee nice and warm;
A few bangs and bumps won't do thee no harm."
So with gladsome laughter and merry shout,
From the school we'd all come tumbling out.
Down the street to Latimer off we'd go,
An soon we'd be standing all in a row.
First boy'd take off and strike the slide,
Then one after t'other off we'd glide.
We felt like the swift moving birds that fly
Up above in a clear blue sky,
Except when we came down with a bump,
And sat on the ice with a gert big thump.
But what did we care if we fell?
We just slid again till we heard the school bell.
And back to lessons off we'd go,
Dearie me didn't time go slow
Untill it was time to go home for tea,
Which was gobbled down then off we'd go.
Hurrying off a down the lane,
Back to our fun on the pond again.
And then would come our dads and big brothers,
Our grown up sisters and maybe our mothers.
We'd all slide about, oh how the time flew by!
Ah! we couldn't tell where the minutes fled,
In no time at all we were called 'ome to bed.
In the spring it were a pretty sight,
When the clouds were sailing high and white
Across the heaven's expanse of blue
To see them sailing old Latimar too.
And see the white ducks swimmin' by,
Floating both on water and sky.
And the tall elms bent like a winsome lass,
To see themselves as though in a glass.
And when the moon rose over the trees,
Round and full like a chedder cheese,
It made I think of those old tales
Which be known in all Wiltshire's hills and dales,
Of the moonraker and the excise men;
For some of us were smugglers then.
And how they laughed at the village fool,
Who was trying to take a cheese from the pool.
But the fool was clever; the excise man did miss 'im
It sure did happen in a pool like this one.
Ah, well yes, I must admit,
That the old pond it stinks a bit.
But what be a bad smell here or there?
It aint hurt I; I be pretty fair.
Why Lord bless thee, I be good as new.
And I've dwelled in Hullington all my life too.
Well, at any rate, I'll be still alive.
Eh, how old be I? Why eighty five!
By John Wicks Aged 85 of Hullavington
Last Verse added by Auntie Mary
By chance I came across this rhyme.
And as I read, the hands of time
Reverted back and I could hear
The old familiar brogue, so dear.
With out a doubt it's Father John.
So now another verse I'll add,
For my Wiltshire brogue is not so bad.
Now this thir pond be covered o'er,
With green green grass for evermore,
And not a seat for old folk to sit.
I wish that they had waited a bit.
Dear Father John be passed away,
And there's no more for me to say,
Except that they'll be memories fond,
Of that old filled in Latimar pond.
Maurice Wicks
Moonlight
Granny Wicks
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