In My African Childhood...
By Frances Macaulay Forde
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In My African childhood
We lived next door to a ‘church’,
could hear their fervent chest-beating,
shouting at all times of the day and night.
So could our prize-winning show-dog.
A Beagle barking continuously
can be annoying... but not enough
to warrant throwing an axe
hitting and chopping off her leg.
Her Agricultural show career ended
although she enjoyed the breeding...
We moved away to safer neighbours,
our dog limping through her dreams.
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2019
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Comments
What a horrible thing to do!
What a horrible thing to do!
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That's awful.
That's awful.
Long ago in England (Gillingham to be precise), we lived near a church. Sunday mornings were absolute mayhem with people parking cars in our narrow and normally peaceful little street, slamming doors and shouting greetings at each other. The cherry on the cake of irony was always the moment when one of our neighbours would appear at his front door screaming at the top of his voice for the church-goers to be quiet.
Turlough
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That's a grim tale. Maybe not
That's a grim tale. Maybe not the ideal "church". Paul
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I love that last line,
I love that last line, Frances. It's a beautiful image, but holding so much sadness too.
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