My dad had quite a weather-beaten face.

For what it’s worth, he was considered white,

But sun and sand had scorched his countenance

(North Africa was where he served his war).

Once an outraged lady asked my mum:

‘You all right, dear? I feel sorry for you,

What with your husband being, well, you know.

Where does he come from?’ My mum replied ‘Bow.’

The lady pursed her lips. ‘That can’t be true.

Believe me, dear, I’m not completely dumb.

We haven’t seen his sort round here before.’

‘Why on earth does she take this stupid stance?’

Thought Mum, now sympathising with the plight

Of anybody marked out by their race.