NEW YEARS EVE 

We were awoke abruptly one cold morning

no gentle nudge no whisper no warning

the light went on and scorched our eyes

and off came our blankets despite our cries

what day is this my mother said

as she filled her pram with my warm bed

it was Saturday I said a bit dreamy

its Hogmanay and I’m off to the Steamie

Before we knew it she wasn’t there

and was bumping her pram doon the stair

we were left standing four abreast

of holey socks and dirty vest

we should have been wise to this annual event

her trip to the steamie and what it meant

for this was New Years Eve and we knew

THE TRAIN 

We got off the tram at Central Station

a wee bit unsure of our destination

I had never been on a train before

and was quite excited that’s for sure

we were heading somewhere down the coast

our names on our jumpers should we get lost

ma said goodbye and we were on our own

and joined the others bound for the home

The station was packed wi a hundred weans

the poor kids of Glesga hoarded on trains

they were taking us to St Vincent de Paul’s

a home on the coast for a fortnight’s hols

we stood there carrying brown paper bags

all our possessions and a spare set of rags

we must have looked like evacuees

THE GRAVEYARD 

The last place to visit just after dark

was Janefield cemetery behind Celtic Park

the gate was closed and securely locked

our route of entry completely blocked

so we climbed the gate then onto the wall

which had an eight-foot drop and a painful fall

we weren’t paying respects to someone we knew

we were heading for the factory that made Irn Bru

We jumped off the wall into an abyss

I thought right away we should give this a miss  

out of the bright lights that lit up the street

into a darkness we were surprised to meet

we stood rigid and never spoke

our eyes adjusting to the covering cloak

out came the moon and we found our gaze

 CHRISTMAS EVE 

The night was silent but not one of us slept

and all about the hoose our parents crept

we lay very still pretending to sleep

through half shut eyes a continual peep

has he been yet said a little voice

get back to sleep or you’ll get no toys

I was at the stage where I didn’t believe

but still couldn’t sleep on Christmas Eve

A few hours before we’d sat round the fire

writing to Santa on what we’d desire

we took it for granted that he would come

and despatched our notes up the lum

we never questioned his arrival

or our parents struggle for our survival

what a sacrifice it must have been

THE DESTROYER 

Glasgow is famous for notorious men

and there was many away back then

Shug the Thug and Tam the Bam

and Ted the Ned who beat up his gran

but the one that I had feared the most

was called The Destroyer and no mean boast

this is his story I’m sure you will enjoy

my transition to man from boy

On my eighteenth birthday I had my first drink

at least that was what I let my parents think

my father took me down to his local pub

a den of iniquity a drinking mans club

the place was crowded and stunk of smoke

where everyone shouted and no one spoke

wines and whiskies and McEwen’s beer