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Gobowen 1927.
Snow flakes fell on the foot of the bed,
The children lay staill,wide eyed,black rimmed,
Coughing,crying,young faces contorted in fright.
The cold so intense many wet the bed.
Nurses rushed round in their coats and scarves,
Serving out diets of boiled fish,potatoes in skins.
Coaxing and scolding,ensuring no one starved,
Then the big spoon,it's cod liver oil overflowing.
The generators constant with their gentle humming,
The clanging of metal jugs and bowls in the morning.
Then the change in the storm that came in the night,
With the rain and the hail on tin roofs drumming.
Little eyes,from troubled minds,peeped out;
For the wards had no walls to the sides and the front,
What were they all thinking?Surely not of heaven!
Fresh air was the cure for T.B in 1927.
