This little poem was written by my neighbour’s daughter. Her father worked at the Heinz factory:
When I was little the Heinz whistle blew
Loud and clear at a quarter-to-two.
Or maybe it sounded at quarter-to-one?
Whatever the time, I know it was fun.
I wish we still heard the Heinz whistle blowing,
Then we would know when we’re coming or going.
