Read the Poem

I remember -
     going dancing on Stacey Road.
     Threepence it cost,
     and the next week you could go for nothing.
     We did waltz and foxtrot -
     no jiving like there is today.
     I met my husband on Stacey Road.
     He'd walk me home.
     After two minutes at the gate with him,
     My father would say
     'Winnie! Get in!'