The yellow canary
sings in it's cage.
Gran sits sleeping
in her armchair
snoring.
I am by the window
looking out at the rain
raindrops sliding
down the glass
like tears.
I wanted to go
with Benny
but then it
started raining
and Gran said no
to stay in the dry.
I look out
at the block of flats
opposite where
Benny lives
with his parents
and brother and sister.
Bath Terrace is below
and across the way
is the coal wharf
where I can see
the coal men
coming and going
some drawn in
horse drawn wagons.
Benny said he would
show me his
favourite bomb site.
It used to be
a butcher's shop
but was bombed
in the War and
only the ruins
are there now
boarded up
but he said
there is a way in.
Best not tell Gran
or she'll not
let me go.
I hope it stops
raining soon.
My doll sits
on the settee
staring into space
hands holding out
as if she wanted
to be picked up.
Maybe she wants feeding
or her nappy changed.
The rain drops hit
the windowpane.
I hope it stops
and never rains again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice Mood; remembering how important it was to escape and go exploring as a kid. Loved it!