大象传媒

The man presents a confident coping image
A persona honed and matured by time
But now and again in fretful fitful dreams
I am six years old and wide-awake
Roused by the wailing banshee of siren
Fear gnawing at my stomach, waiting for mother

Lying under warm blankets, cold and insecure
Remembering my carefree, cloudless yesterdays
Snatched away like a discarded dummy
I suckle these memories for tenuous comfort
For to endure a dark unknown future
I tap a reservoir stocked with peace and sunlight

Hardly utopia, two rooms, three families sharing
Single mother, brother and sister, love laughter
Water and netty in yard, gaslight crumbling mantles
Shops bursting, bustling, with mouth watering treats
A glittering kaliderscope, rich with delicious aroma鈥檚
Gazing moth like, pay penny clutched in hand

I recall, savouring again a moment to treasure
Walking home from school, skipping in anticipation
Mothers welcome hug, the smell of newly baked bread
A tea of stotty cake, butter and pineapple chunks
Along the landing, open door, neighbours engulfing warmth
Then cocoa and contented sleep in sardine packed bread

Now the old house has gone for ever
Just ghostly gap on rubble strewn bombsite
New council house, bathroom, electricity, garden
Trudge home from school, to cold empty dwelling
Mother working, late back, tired and impatient
Desperately missing warm embrace and cosy tea

Stumble through coal black streets, bereft of light
Shuttered shop windows, blackout rationed shelves
Sweets, chocolates, bananas, just a hopeless longing
Huddled around wireless, bulldog Churchill barking
Taste tangible fear of defeat and invasion
How could that secure certain world, betray me

Perhaps I understand too much, or too little
Mirror reflects ordinary boy, brown hair and eyes
Wanting to be liked by teacher and friends
My companions play war games, with laughing gusto
Why am I not cheerfully resilient like them?
Why seek summer swallows long since flown

Startled back to present, by mother鈥檚 anxious voice
Half dressed, half carried, damp sanctuary of shelter
Bombs explode, shrapnel rattles, aircraft drone
Eventually exhausted sleep, dream of ice-cream covered bananas
Awakened by all clear, relief relaxes haggard faces
Wearily home, to face another tired austere day

Disclaimer: Submitted by Janet Hughes at Seaham Library on behalf of Ron Toft

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