The bing was a huge mound of cement and gravel where kids climbed on the corner of Place View and Newhouse Drive. It was converted into a playpark in the mid 80s. Oh the years upon the bing with cousin Margaret children played climbing up with all our power by Newhouse drive where people stayed Amid the thorns and grey cement there seemed a moment, time well spent and sliding down the gravel slope I skinned my knees without a hope My grannie waiting at the door with borax, plasters by the score O the hills we thought were steep when now in older lives we keep Mountains slopes upon our minds perhaps a bing of different kind climbing o’er our darker thoughts just like the thistles we did trod Lessons from the bing well learnt of my granny’s soothing balm o how that Love returns to me a nd brings with it a sense of calm And behind the trees sat Warrior’s bing perhaps a sign of future years with bigger slope and hills to climb amid the darker fading years
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