Treasure Island

ANDREW BLAKEMORE

(01/01/1966 / BIRMINGHAM)

Bakers Lane


Bakers Lane so long ago
Upon the High Street's terraced row,
The bakers stood
Those times so good
Its walls were painted white,
Where Ted Buckley baked inside
Cakes and bread displayed with pride,
The window there
Beyond compare
Made such a lovely sight.

Every year on Christmas day
And while the townsfolk went to pray,
He would take
Their lunch and bake
Their turkeys golden brown,
In the ovens that he had
All those people were so glad,
Forgotten days
And simple ways
Before it was pulled down.

Bakers Lane so long ago
You could smell the rising dough,
Of crusty bread
On trays that fed
The village long before,
When it was so old and quaint
Times of charm with such restraint,
There did dwell
Before it fell
The friendly baker's store.

Submitted: Thursday, February 14, 2008

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Comments about this poem (Bakers Lane by ANDREW BLAKEMORE )

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  • Ernestine Northover (2/26/2008 12:03:00 PM)

    One can picture it all, and as Thad says, the smell rises up to greet you from this poem. Bread now, never smells like bread did then.
    Love and hugs Ernestine XXX (Report) Reply

  • Duncan Wyllie (2/21/2008 4:19:00 PM)

    Now this is poetry that offers it's readers, something of substantial quality, , perhaps undefined, but I see it still...

    Love duncan X (Report) Reply

  • Thad Wilk (2/14/2008 4:51:00 PM)

    Hi Andrew! I can smell the aroma of freshly baked bread now! Nice write! *10*!
    Best regards, Friend Thad (Report) Reply

Read all 4 comments »

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