A Planning Application Of Yesteryear
A Small Tribute To Ernest
A Time Remembered
Amos Again
Breedon Cricket Club
Bridge It
Cricket And The Church
I Remember
Mushrooms For Breakfast
Native Tonge
Pardon My Garden
Quarrying In Breedon
Re Worthington Revisited
Some More Memories Of Worthington
Speaking In Tonges
The Old Boundary
The Organ
Tonge Along
Uncle Toms Hat
What Is A Christian
When The Vicar Stayed For Tea
Worthington Remembered
Worthington Soldiers Poem
You Seek Me
The United Benefice of Breedon and Worthington
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Worthington Revisited

by Ye Olde Yawny Boxian

The Delph is gone
Where we'd climb high
To pick wild strawberries
That lay nearby.

The Woodside Cottages
Are no longer there
With the Hollybush Inn
A fate to share.

I remember the blacksmith's shop
At Cloud Hill
And over the fields
Old Chester's Mill
Where we'd swim in the dam
And then to get dry
We'd roll in the grass
In the field just by
Looking out for Old Chester
That he didn't see
Then we'd pick some watercress
To take home for our tea.

The Bobby Field
At the top of Bull Hill
Where down in the winter
On our sledges we'd spill.

The brook where we'd paddle
To cool our feet
After a long walk
In the hot summer's heat.

Aunt Jane's cottage
Has gone I see
Round by the Malt Shovel
It used to be.
A chatty old soul
Everyone's friend
Always ready
Your ear to bend.

There's something different
In the air
No longer the smell
Of the farmyard there.
Where are the cow-pats
That lined the way
When the cows were turned out
At the end of the day?

There was Big Jim Smith
And 'Polly' the Post
Just a few of the folks
I remember most.
'Liz Bod' at the shop
And 'Flossie' Brooks
Who sold everything
From candles to hooks

I remember the fairground
Which overnight seemed to appear
Opposite the Chapel
In a field once a year.

I paused at the school
And in my mind's eye
I could see all the children
Of years gone by.
Hopscotch, leapfrog
And husky bum
And I swear I could hear
The whipped tops hum.

I looked down Shield's Lane
For the conker tree
Nothing but new houses
Did I see.

The Roundhouse is still there
Where we'd gather to play
But where is the Pinfold? It's not there today.
Only more houses
All nice I agree
But they don't exist
In my memory.

The church still stands
Constant and true
What does she think
Of Worthington new?
If her walls could speak
What a tale they would tell
Of weddings and funerals
And christenings as well.
I would have liked to go in
But there was no-one to ask
So I sat on the steps
And drank from my flask.

Do they still go down Blanche
And up Long Hedge Lane
Will the hounds ever meet
Outside the old Swan again?

Does your voice still echo
From the hills when you shout?
Do the ghosts of Old Worthington
Still walk about?

Someone passed by
But they didn't reply
When I mentioned the weather
And looked to the sky.
In my youth
That would have been wrong
"Where's your manners me lad?
Has the cat got your tongue?"
It's sad to think
In the present day
When we meet a stranger
We just turn away.

But like the Good Shepherd
Whose sheep tend to roam
I felt the old church
Welcomed me home
So I smiled at my memories
As I turned away
It was good to remember