I wanted to write this poem
To remind me of things of the past
How we sat beside each other in Berkshire
And worked so hard and so fast.

Tights and stockings we stitched there,
Dozens! day after day,
The hard work, of course, was rewarding
When on Friday we got our pay.

Seamers, Menders and Linkers
Knitters and Fixers....the lot
Bosses, Foremen and Cleaners
Mechanics, Toe-stitchers and cots!

Eric McAuley was Foreman
Mr Payne?...he was the Boss
Always carrrying half-a-crown
Which into the air he tossed.

Quality? well it was vital
As these stockings were always the best
They were dyed, and matched to perfection,
Boarded, and steamed and then pressed

Then the Packers folded them daily
And off to the shops they went
Everyone wanted to buy them
So on them their money was spent

We had, too,a nurse who cared for us
And outside her door we would wait,
Pills for our headaches, pills for pains,
The treatment we got was just great.

We finished! and buses were waiting
To take us all home every night
And really we were mostly a happy lot
With no such a thing as a fight.

The people of course really prospered
When the "Berkshire" came to our town
Many could buy their houses!
And there was lots more of money around.

          Meta Sibley (nee Gamble)
                        November 2008