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Aquarius Buried Treasure Callanish S T O N E D Q U A R T Z McMac Pardon? Tattoo Camera Obscura High Creagan The West Highlander Pot Of Gold StarVoyagers Deep Breath Vulpes Vulgaris Richard |
H.M.S. Belfast Firing Range Royal Visit Crisp and Even Elizabeth Great Court S.T. Barnabas Runaway Vengence Weapon No 1 Water Trough Woolwich Ferry CloudBusting Segas Showing My Age 39 Rue Grande Nigel Knows Disco Not Cricket It Is Better Mind How You Go No Flowers Ashes to Ashes R.I.P. Feminist |
Somehow I woke up early, Seven o'clock or so, And very quietly dressed myself, Tied my laces in a bow, Smoothed my blankets, pumped the pillow, Drew the curtains wide, Closed the door. crept down stairs, Found a shadowy hide To find way to secluded bus stop, Joined miners on their omnibus ride. "Wakefield please", with northern twang To disguise my foreign tongue, The ticket rolled, no change this time, Relief as starter rung. Downcast eyes as faces stared, Dry mouth. and fire in lung. The rattle ride to station, The misty view dragged long, Station yard, cobbled, curved, Heartbeats loud and strong, Quick descent of serrated steps, Dash to wooden ticket latch, "Childs single to Doncaster please, And platform where I make my catch?" At Donny the London train at ten Needs a ticket to ride, At the counter I ask for one. Loneliness I cannot hide, Its wartime and a journey to hell Needs a guardian angel, "Are you young Peter from Healey Road. Just step inside and te11?" Running away is never the answer, This advice I give to you , But authority never realised That I was not running away, I was running to! OSSETT 1944 |