(Pavement special from the streets of Daveyton) At first you scared me with your manic energy Your thinking and actions seemed to lack synergy Jumping and running and biting with glee Ecstatic with the thought of being rescued by me
Where seagulls prey on hastiness And Time itself disjoints, Where making plans is foolishness, That there is Shelly Point.
A little ditty inspired by one of my Nanny’s (grandmother’s) many tales of war-time Coventry. Some cried, some prayed, Some whistled and shouted, Till all sound did fade Behind a call no one doubted. Oh the air-raid-siren was feared above all, It curdled the blood, that ominous call.
Not Chaucer, nor Milton, not Shakespeare nor Pope, not Wordsworth nor Larkin ever had a hope.
