Play 1950s
Best place was the bomb site
Where we hunted furry caterpillars.
Next best was the stone flags
We chalked hopscotch on
Or turned rope and chanted
Salt, Mustard, Vinegar, Pepper.
Never indoors where mums
In flowery overalls scrubbed floors
At school someone decided
And it wasn’t me – on crazes:
Conkers, marbles, five stones
Or we sang in a circle
Poor Jenny sat a weeping
In and Out the Dusky Bluebells
Lucy Locket lost her pocket
Till someone invented the hula hoop.
Where we hunted furry caterpillars.
Next best was the stone flags
We chalked hopscotch on
Or turned rope and chanted
Salt, Mustard, Vinegar, Pepper.
Never indoors where mums
In flowery overalls scrubbed floors
At school someone decided
And it wasn’t me – on crazes:
Conkers, marbles, five stones
Or we sang in a circle
Poor Jenny sat a weeping
In and Out the Dusky Bluebells
Lucy Locket lost her pocket
Till someone invented the hula hoop.
This poem is copyright (©) Carole Bromley 2026
About the Writer
Carole Bromley
Carole Bromley lives in York and writes for both adults and children. Winner of Caterpillar Prize, poems in Tyger, Tyger, The Toy, Paperbound, Little Thoughts Press and in anthologies from MacMillan, Nosy Crow, Emma Press. Teaches courses on writing poems for children https://thewritingschool.co.uk/our-courses-and-events
