When I think of childhood I think of me
Seven years old wading in the cool stream
My socks and shoes under the willow tree
Playtime for boy in wartime...but was free
The bombers raided in dead of night
Dropping their loads indiscriminately
Didn't have shelter so hid under stairs
Or kitchen table sleeping, without cares
Thankfully in daytime bombers were few
Walked to school or caught bus if had fare
But when we were let out at half past three
We'd run down to the river happily
There we would play for hour under the bridge
Despite barefoot we'd all get soaking wet
But dried off on our long walk home for tea
I loved playing by that bridge happily
Image found at https://pixabay.com/photos/girls-boys-children-development-516341/
Children are awesomely resilient. I love the thought of you playing in the creek, by day, then going home to hide from bombs by night.........both memories so vivid, of a child in wartime.
ReplyDeletePlaytime for boy in wartime...
ReplyDeleteSome things don't change. So history repeats itself in every generation.
I somehow think that the greatest hope for humanity is that children can manage to play.
ReplyDeleteThis is utterly poignant and heart-wrenching, Robin! ❤️
ReplyDeleteWow. I too played in the crick under the bridge, similarly, but it was not wartime. This is such a gentle poem, I love it.
ReplyDeleteChildren playing when war rages is the hope peace will come. I love your poem. It shines light in my own battles.
ReplyDeleteIt is good to think that there was still enough innocence and joy in those young hearts that they could play, and wonderful to think that the creek was there for them to forget the ugly mess that adults had made of the world.
ReplyDeleteThis is a joy to read.
ReplyDeleteWill miss reading your poems ... wishing you a wonderful New Year!
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful evocation of childhood – independent of circumstances.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this, Robin. In a world that is always growing bleaker, we need to be reminded that there will always be a bit of sunshine (between horrors).
ReplyDeleteMemories of childhood so beautifully brought to light here.
ReplyDelete