The Rainy Day
I am wearing my gas mask ready to be evacuated.
My Mum packed my bag, put in my nighty
Playing with my yo-yo on the train
Looking at the trees goes past in the rain.
Going Away
Children crying, mothers weeping
Leaving London and what I know.
Might go to Wales…
Might go to the coast…
Where will I go?
Where will I go?
Boom!
Here I am, soggy and wet
World War 2 is making me upset.
Crying and sobbing, wailing and crawling
All the bombs are strongly falling.
All the houses collapse in a row,
While I was knitting a dolly bow.
I love knitting while I’m spitting pebbles
That fly in my mouth.
This is absurd, the bombs
And the tragedy I heard.
And poor little bird
Got killed by a bomb.
He was my only friend and called him Flom.
Slump, bump off with the stump.
Now I am lost in my air raid shelter
Compared to my school’s.
My School’s air raid shelter was destroyed
By Hilter’s fools.
No more fools who were using tools so
We got out,
Now the city was dark, no flower was
About to sprout.
As World War 2 ended, even my air raid
Shelter is bent.
But at least I am safe…safe.
Evacuation
Evacuees travel by train.
Visitors of farms and villages
Ask questions – ‘When can I go home?’
Crying people in the war.
Utter nonsense this fighting.
Air rain shelters are tightly packed.
Tools and tractors and talk of digging.
In the country things are quiet.
Optional jobs are hard for women.
Not enough food for people.