Took a wander across the bridge,
As the sun was getting low,
Cast my eyes off to my right,
The waters calm and slow.
Dander up old Station Road,
Sweet memories in my mind,
Livingstone’s, the Village shop,
And buildings I cannot find.
Glasgow Road was the place to be,
Characters by the score,
Parochial community with happy faces,
Never seen anymore.
Public parks and boating ponds,
With lovely flower beds,
Sadly now have all gone,
Just a meeting place for neds.
Stonefield Road filled with shops,
With aromas etched in my mind,
Cobbler shop and Black the bakers,
Such now we’ll never find.
The Cauther braes and old Greenhall,
Spent many a happy days,
Fly tippers and broken bottles,
So different in many ways.
Destroyed this town with such aggression,
Killed my passion, no time to dwell,,
Packed up my home and I did flee
Across the water to Bothwell.
J. J. Whelan 2012
Pictured are the remains of the old Bothwell railway Station in 1961.
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