THE SWINGING SIXTIES
By Peter Woodgate
Today
I visited the scenes of my youth.
Paused, in the playground of my dreams and recalled,
The swinging sixties.
The magic of Motown the Beatles and Stones
The Mods wearing mohair the Rockers in jeans.
Kensington High,
The
The fashion of Quant, the hair of Sassoon,
The “Space race” was on, who’d be first to the moon?
The Beehive, the Minis, both car and the skirt,
The thin pointed shoes and button-down shirt.
The coffee all frothy the juke box alight,
You put in your money and danced through the night.
In sport, so it seemed, we were on the way up,
Euphoria struck when we won the World Cup.
I felt indestructible was joyful not sad,
My thoughts were of good ignoring the bad.
For I had a future no one good destroy,
I’d grown into a man from that small timid boy
Yes there was turmoil, assassins and war,
But life was for living, it wasn’t a chore.
And so as I travelled through life’s ups and downs,
I remained optimistic with smiles and with frowns.
But as seasons pass quickly we tend to look back,
And I wandered those streets seeking something I
lack.
So I sat on that seat, suspended by chain,
And gently pushed back, ……….I was swinging again.
Copyright Peter Woodgate

You covered every thing that happened...
ReplyDeleteBefore my time, but very evocative for those who were there.
ReplyDelete