NOSTALGIA, they say, is a thing of the past. But bygone times certainly stay alive in the minds of the many readers who chip in to this column each week.

Two of them, Joe Jones of Irwin Road, Sutton, and I.M. Cook of the local Writers Circle, have both hit on childhood themes in verse.

Here's Joe's 'look-back' poem (it arrived first in my postbag). I.M.'s follows next week . . .

Ribbons of concrete now form the scene,

Where once were meadows, fields of green,

In tall grass which wavered and rippled,

Rabbits abounded and quietly nibbled,

A rustle of leaves among the trees,

Gently touched by a sighing breeze,

The song of a lark soaring on high,

In a clear blue and peaceful sky,

Along with bluebells (becoming very few),

Were fields of daisies and buttercups, too,

Few are the ponds with small marine life,

A pleasure to children when these were rife,

The rippling rhythm of a running stream,

Where one could quietly sit and dream,

The peaceful scene of horse and plough,

While a maiden sits to milk a cow,

The countryside smell of sweet morning dew,

Unspoiled by fumes from traffic passing through,

The lowing of cattle and the cock that crows,

Echoes over fields and long hedgerows,

Where picnicking was the treat of the day,

And farmhands gathered in the hay.

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.