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Solstice Standstill Buried Treasure Simon Claire One More Candle Judith Silver Spoon Weggie Man Henwick Road School Eltham Baths After School StationMasters House Ridgebrook Terrace End Of The Line Foxhole Cottage Anyone For Tennis Plantagenet Thames Barrier O Horse Carnivore Corvus Corone Corone Troglodyte Troglodyte Navigator Earth Mover No Time |
Doctor Doctor! One Degree Under Sten Gun We Trained Donner Und Blitzen Friday Night Post Legionnaire Motor100 Two Tone Jump Jet BenLomond Metamophis Good God Now Advanced Level The Wall Unsuccessful Masochists Woden Nagasaki EarlyToBed BlessTheBride Dead is Dead A Penny For Them My Old Dutch Hush |
One morning, At ten minutes past seven, Just as we were having our beggar shredded wheat, Came that tell tale whoosh and crump Which meant that someone had "got it". Across our back yard in Warspite Road For a wash in cold water, A quick brush of teeth with salt, Slicking down Jimpy hair with drips from the tap, Making an attempt at a Windsor knot, And not forgetting double bow shoe laces, A sprint up the road And onto a clanking, nodding tram. Down hill to Dickson Road, Through the archway to Whinyates, And on Winchcombe with its maze of bushes Mysteriously surrounded by iron railings. There a crowd of silent children and mums Looking at a building with no window panes, no tiles, No life. Miss MacDonald, who knew how to pronounce "chaos'', Said to come back tomorrow. No school today. Soon, standing at J.Ps main gate, White faced lovely Mum appeared from the Invoice Department With hug and kiss and a shilling piece, And promise to meet outside the Granada in Greenwich, at five thirty On the tram home, hand in hand, Lost in our thoughts. Mine, how best to end the war. Mum, how best to survive it. |