Knock, East Belfast
By Christopher Peake
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We moved to a house on the outskirts of town
Away from the shores of Strangfjiord in Down
With a lawn at the front and more at the back
Our old semi detached was near ''Ballyhack''.
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We often remembered the Lough's shores of Down
When cattle walked past to the market in town.
Those were the old days when they travelled on hoof,
And the drovers dogs kept control with a ''Woof''.
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Brown's big smart black horses and hearse drew
the late
To the Dundonald graveyard for their last date.
We'd watch to see the horses and hearse again
Trotting rapidly home for their feed of grain.
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On Friday nights came the grocer's small red van,
We all knew the driver, Bob, a big tall man,
He wore brown laced up boots and long leggings too
He might even have brought your rations to you.
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Women from the City by the lorry load,
Headed for potato picking out our road,
Joking and laughing, they were full of good cheer,
And they were roughly dressed in their working gear.
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When Christmas came round there was always a band
Of uniformed people well known in the land,
The Salvation Army, they toured every street
Giving all in the houses there a real treat.
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Occasionally seen at that time of year
Was a half sized tram wearing holiday gear
It was dressed with many a bright fairy light
The tinsel trim made it a beautiful sight.
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We made new friends at a school not far away.
Teachers taught us lots of new things every day.
We learnt manners. '' A young boy should raise his cap ''
And we were shown strange places on a coloured map.
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