I remember seven
Back in nineteen forty three
It was wartime then
It was all I knew
Tanks, planes, bombs and doodlebugs
We kids loved it then
Everywhere shortage
Even I was short then too
We had milk at school
Didn't play with girls
Climbing trees was a boy's job
And scraping our knees
Few dads were about
'Less they got back home on leave
Then they looked so tired
But the sun still shone
And the rain bucketed down
Just like aunties tears
Uncle stayed out east
Because he never came back
Died in prison camp
Image found at www.pixcove.com
It seems in the context of a lifetime the sun only shines briefly - eclipsed by tears and reality - which you have skilfully left us with in the last lines..a powerful poem Old Egg
ReplyDeleteInteresting times to grow up in. The world must seem such a different place now.
ReplyDeleteFew dads were about
ReplyDeleteBut the sun still shone
Uncle stayed out east
Died in prison camp
Wartime episodes that accord different fortunes to different families. It was tragic with all the sufferings. Yet there is no political will to resolve current conflicts which rage on while they are still talking.
Hank
I tried to leave this comment earlier, but not sure it made it... just wanted to tell you how I loved the details of this poem. I could feel the time change to 1943 as I read. Nice!
ReplyDeleteLove the way you've told about the hardships of war through the eyes of an innocent child.
ReplyDelete