" How Britain won World War 2 " ? ?

Let's down the spitfires and forget

the ignominy of Dunkirk.

We actually didn't win World War Two -

the Russians and the Americans did,

with help from Britain, and don't forget

the many volunteer Commonwealth troops.

Nobody mentions Singapore,

the ignominy of surrender.

We lost an empire which is actually

cause for congratulation, ceding

albeit sometimes unwillingly

worldwide colonies' independence.

Only a popularity addict

seeking votes could brazenly praise

" . . the generation that won the war . ."

 Wisdom not wealth was what I wanted 

but neither of them is what I got

since wisdom is knowing what you don't know

and what you don't know ain't worth a lot.

The selfsown poppy finally flowered,

scarlet but not the cornfield kind,

elegantly tall, empowered,

mascara marked but blind.

Four imposing petals bouncing,

spurning the honeybee's caress,

flexing in the breeze and flouncing,

twirling like a woman's dress.

The fat guy sprawled across the table,

flopping over both sides of his chair,

looked as if he was clearly able

to be regarded as slob of the year.

But when the singer took the stage,

our slob had energy restored,

waddled forward to earn his wage

and conjured magic from the keyboard.

We were cracking acorns to feed to the ducks

when she started back in terror.

"What's wrong?" I asked but she didn't reply

petrified by some horror.

Then slowly she pointed at the debris

and I noticed something move -

a couple of baby earwigs maybe

but not such as I could prove.

She's only three so I tried to explain

there was nothing to be afraid of.

"I know you're really a brave little girl

so show them what you're made of".

She relaxed and we resumed our work

but then it happened again.

The chair screeched as she pushed it back

with a little gasp like pain.

And there was the thing of nightmares

threatening with a wiggle.

I know I shouldn't have seemed unkind

but I couldn't suppress a giggle.

It was really quite a cute little maggot

looking so white and clean.

What was there to be afraid of

or was I being too mean?

I picked it up very carefully

so as not to harm it.

"I'll bet it's more scared than you are" I said

"and I don't want to alarm it".

I put it among the broken debris.

"Perhaps we've got enough.

There's no need now to do any more.

Let's go feed the ducks".

She soon cheered up and hopefully

erased the scene from memory

and as she grows will come to give

some empathy to all that live.

"That's life." you said  and walked away.

That's life that breaks my heart in play.

That I love you and you loved me

but time has turned to tragedy.

A Brighton afternoon

Lying back relaxing in the local park

on a public bench in the autumn sun

while the kids explored the jungly bushes,

arrowheads darted across the sky.

They posed the passing question why

all were aimed in the same direction -

heading out across the Channel,

silhouettes streaking the cloud blown sky.

Migrating martins ! All flying south

helped by the storm force wind from the north,

taking advantage of English weather

to help them say goodbye.