'The Cambuslang that I used to ken
Was down Silverbanks beside the old pen
Where mothers stood nursing babes 'in the shawl'
Watching young children playing, lest they should fall.
Vandals or delinquents neither lived here,
But an odd scallywag felt a clip round the ear,
Social workers, deprivation - what do the words mean?
The weans were well fed and comparatively clean,
Washed in tin baths on a Saturday night,
Then tucked into bed - what a memorable sight.
Teenagers gathered to go dancing or a walk,
They didn't need 'buckie' to laugh or to talk.
Old folk would pass them without fear or despair,
Muggings unheard of - they got helped up the stair.

Oh to stroll along streets everyone knew:
Colebrooke, Church, Park Street to name but a few,
Saint Brides and Busheyhill, schools from the past,
With the Empire and Ritz demolished with a blast,
Every Saturday morning the queue was so long
To see 'goodies' win baddies and sing the matinee song,
Bunion's fish suppers, the Cross cafe's hot peas,
Scoulars the ironmongers, blown away like a sneeze,
Gone are shops with 'loose butter', cured ham, tasty cheese,
Smiling assistants saying thank you, customers saying please.
Whites, Litons and Maypole, I accept you're extinct
And I'll never see your likes down at the precinct
I do not oppose progress or facades big and bold
Some changes bring improvement, others leave me cold.

~ Mary Burns. Overton Road, Halfway