He Was A Boy Poem by Jean Bernard Parr

he was a boy
you could see that in him
he was always the boy
always on the lookout
for a horizon, you can bet
he rushed home for tea
after school but it was the
battered tin plate of the
lone adventurer he saw
the more impossible the exploit
the better, under bedclothes,
the torch growing dim, with
War Picture Library, Battler Brittan
and Gunga Din

He was always a boy
who loved tales of hardship
and loss in frozen wastes
spellbound by air crashes
in the high Andes, don't
start to walk, stay with the plane
don't listen too hard
to the baying of wolves
rescue will come,
if you stick to the rules
he was always a boy

he was always a boy
his night time bath and rubber duck
he made into an Atlantic, unforgiving,
rough, and if that wasn't enough
conjured a rogue wave to make you tremble
a terror the size of the white cliffs of Dover-
hold on to the wheel, close your eyes
throw out the sea anchor, let it drag
and the ships timbers groan and creak
now all the crew are safe in bed,
well, wasn't that a narrow squeak?

Always the boy
that's what you remember
he was always a boy
who stood up straight
the boy you could count on in a scrape


jean Bernard Parr
written in memory of Roger Dykes, Sully Sailing Club