In the crevices of my labyrinth
mind – I am still with Mother
hiding under the stairs and she
who never went to church, was
chiding the almighty – asking if,
and when, the bombing would
finally come to an end, so that
the ambulances might come and
take away the dead and wounded
from the nearby homes, whose
moans of pain were sounding
through the broken window glass.
The flood lit reddened docks had
now a friendlier hue and the ATS
teams wiped their furrowed brows.
Will the Jerry come again tonight?
Unspoken thoughts unexpressed
but still a focus of the mind of those
whose grimy soot-faced faces gave
a gloomy smile, and just a little way
away, beside the docks – shipping
tethered to the quays were well
inflamed with hose pipes running
dry beneath an iridescent sky.
Jut jawed Scousers who went to
seek their safety in the shelters
came pouring back to find some
pets had perished in the blitz and
Fritz, a collective name for German
Luftwaffe types would light their
pipes and brag about it in the places
where they took their rest – or stroked
their furry mascots round their necks.
Whilst Haw Haw scoffed in mocking
tones: Germany Calling, .................