George Harrocks Reminiscing by Kathleen Wildman

George Harrocks Reminiscing by Kathleen Wildman

Memories, sweet memories are the ones we surely find, When sitting quietly in later years, they’re in the forefront of our mind.

One such memory for me, as vivid now as then, Is one that will never, ever fade, it revisits time and time again.

I see me, twelve years old, as bold as brass, with new found freedom, A hundred and six rebel boys behind, I’d won the vote for who to lead them.

I took full control, the Fair, our goal, and it was in our sights now. No rigid rules and regulations, not for me, to no man I bow.

In the still of night I’d readied the gate, by removal of its staple, So a speedy exit could be made, we were ready, we were able.

In the early morn, secrecy sworn, we made our swift escape. If any masters then had seen us, they’d have stood with mouths agape.

But they did not, and what they got, when they awoke, those stern reposers, Was news, that with little fuss, a mass exodus, had gone on under their noses.