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of flash, thud, shudder,
then the wailing...
that's half a young cat's life
Kids in camouflage sprint and stumble through smoke,
their faces smeared with blood and dirt.
It’s a burnt-out city with kids tearing into enemy lines,
Let's take a walk
around the park,
but please don't forget
that you have to bark.
No matter what you
want to say,
Just watch, think and bark,
Not many people in the park,
nobody near enough to hear me,
if I say a poem or two.
So I do.
Look at the trainLook at the trainLook at the train,the train, the train!
Rattling byClackety-clackat the back of the housesup on the track.
My Gran was a Caribbean ladyAs Caribbean as could beShe came across to visit usIn Shoreham by the sea.
There is a place (believe me,
she said) where if, if
you go beyond
the street lights, to the lane's end,
In our flatfaces speakof places across the sea.
In our flatvoices walk intalking, but not like me.
I spy with my London eye
Big Ben telling the time
as these thoughts like the River Thames
flow through my mind
Thoughts of love for my city
Thomas Farynor, Baker to the King,Left his oven burning with the firewood nearby.The embers muttered, the little flames took wing