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By Chris Bradbury
Quelm Lane ran past the back of our house. It was a place where us kids would walk all the time. At the end of the lane was a stream with a small white metal bridge across it. It always seemed to be full of life. As Mick Box would say: 'Appy Days.
Poetry | Updated Jun 6, 2013 | Reads: 1 | Comments: 1 | Likes: 1