This poem by Helen Ford was submitted to the Penarth Times by her sister Rebekah Donovan and her nephew Stephen Donovan who thought our readers might like to share in it.

THE streets may not be paved with gold,

But I’m sure I’ll live here till I’m old,

There is no icon or no fresco,

But at least you can pop in to Tesco.

Its called the garden by the sea,

The sun dances there most wonderfully,

The shopkeepers are pleasant one and all,

And happy school days I recall.

God cast a spell that’s kept on bouncing,

One year we gave the Barbarians a trouncing,

And like Max Boyce for whom I care,

I can confirm that I was there.

There have been changes over the years,

Some of which bring me to tears,

We kids all managed to find a shilling,

To go to the cinema if our parents were willing.

On Saturday morning amidst popcorn and candy,

You could watch a good Bond film and the cartoons were dandy,

But they say all good things must come to an end,

The Penarth Baths soon followed my old faithful friend.

The pleasure of leisure in Cogan came true,

Though Tesco’s arrived sending businesses through,

The comic upheaval of toy town mentality,

Made pedestrian the bottom of Glebe Street reality.

Yet again we look forward with some trepidation,

To the one way system of God know who’s creation.

Woolworths has sadly demised for all time,

With Sainsbury arriving more could be in line.

But despite all the moaning the people are great,

There’s a lot of good humour and more love than hate,

The houses are pricey and that’s not just coz they’re cute,

Penarth’s popularity none can refute.

So roll out the red carpet and make sure it’s clean,

We’re bound to be honoured one day by the Queen,

And when I am gone my last epitaph,

Inscribed on my gravestone, lived in Penarth.

Helen Ford