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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420116" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Newcastle,1936</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In a humble little cottage<br>in a poorer part of town.<br>A tea kettle was whistling, <br>And the rain was pouring down.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Grandpa turned back from the window, <br>To where “mother” poured the tea.<br>“I’ve made some soda bread, <br>why don’t you come an sit with me? ”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Grandpa did as he was bidden-<br>A cup of tea was just the thing, <br>in a delicate bone china cup<br>which bore a picture of the King. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">As a stranger in a strange realm<br>He had worked the mines for years.<br>He had put food on the table, <br>He had endured this vale of tears.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now the world he knew was gone<br>And work was hard to find<br>Germany was rising<br>Which sons would war take this time? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Back when he was young and strong, <br>with no hostages to time.<br>He’d had the change to turn his back<br>on England’s harsher clime.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But then “mother’s” hair was golden<br>Her eyes a baby blue<br>Thoughts of leaving for America<br>paled next to thoughts of you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He’d longed to travel far and wide<br>And see all sides of things.<br>He’d settled for his books and maps.<br>Some thoughts were childish dreams.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In a humble little cottage<br>in a poorer part of town.<br>A tea kettle was whistling, <br>And the rain was pouring down</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+F.+McCullagh">John F. McCullagh</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420116" data-title="Newcastle,1936 de John F. McCullagh" data-description="In a humble little cottage
in a poorer part of town.
A tea kettle was whistling, 
And the rain was pouring down.

Grandpa turned back from the window, 
To where “mother” poured the tea.
“I’ve made some soda bread, 
why don’t you come an ..."></div>
</div>
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