Journey Home Poem by Angela Wybrow

Way back when the war first started,
From my folks, I found myself parted;
They didn't want to send me away,
But, in the city, it was too dangerous to stay.

My folks, they wrote me many a letter,
Telling me that things would soon get better;
But I didn't chose to be an Evacuee,
And I wasn't too keen on life by the sea.

Where I was staying wasn't too bad,
But I missed my folks, and that made me sad;
A photo of them sat next to my bed,
And memories of them replayed in my head.

After five years away, I just can't believe
That I'm sat on a train, waiting to leave;
In my case, my teddy and clothes are all packed,
And it is now safely stowed in the overhead rack.

I simply can't wait to be back home -
I can feel the excitement deep in my bones;
If only it were possible to fast forward time,
And send this train rocketing back down the line.

It will be great to be stepping back on home ground
With familiar sights and familiar sounds.
My folks, they'll be thrilled to have me back home,
But they will not believe just how much I have grown.

Soon I'll be back in their arms, safe and warm,
Now that Britain has weathered the storm;
I always knew from the start that we'd win:
That we wouldn't give up and we wouldn't give in.

The journey ahead will take a good while,
But it will all be worth it when I see my folks smile;
Any second now, the whistle will blow,
And, back home to London, I will happily go.