Wednesday, 30 January 2019
Darkness is to day
Darkness is to day as dawn is to night
As hobgoblins roam to give you a fright
I recall the days as child in my bed
As curtains were drawn that feeling of dread
Made worse by brother who set fire to fuel
Of telling stories of ogres so cruel
I'd sleep okay but end up dreaming
Of witches and wolves and wake up screaming
Mother came in to see me filled with dread
Only to find that I had wet my bed
So change clothes, change bed, oh what a to do!
I got back to sleep then brother shouted "Boo!"
By luck parents heard every word said
So next day Dad cleared spare room for my bed
From that day on I never wet myself
Even put my books on very own shelf
How sweet now my dreams as the younger son
Fairies and pixies play in the bright sun
Paddling in the stream of the dark wood
Living a joyous childhood as I should
Why do these long gone times now flood my brain?
Those halcyon days playing in the rain
How thankful I was the boy that roamed far
Despite my Britain was then deep in war
How versatile us children really were
Planes, bombs and losing uncles we held dear
School was good but then how much more we learnt
By seeing buildings bombed, destroyed and burnt
Image found at https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/517632550911750689/
This poem about WW2 is based on my early life at that time but is completely mixed up so that it cannot be said to be true. It merely gives the feel of war to a five year old child. Many children then were bed wetters because they were aware and frightened. Luckily I was not so troubled being younger when the war started so everything to me seemed normal!