Memories of a French 20 something, 1972
Motorway city of the Seventies.
That is what it said on the envelope.
So, I found out I would be off to Leeds,
And I wondered how I’d manage to cope.
But Yorkshire was friendly, I quickly found.
The skies were grey but the people called me love
When I bought some milk and gave them a pound.
In the bus queue never was there a shove.
No mountains to be seen but streets were steep.
The pudding was a food you ate with beef
Sundays were so quiet, all must be asleep.
Meals had odd name like “tea” and were very brief.
Forty years have gone and I am still here
Glad to call it home and send out a cheer.
Marie-Paule Sheard