Andrew Wright Poems

An angel in truth, a demon in fiction,
A woman's the greatest of all contradiction,
She's afraid of a beetle, she'll scream at a mouse
But she'll tackle a husband as big as a house,
...

I wonder what she really is, and what her name will be
I often try to picture her as she takes us out to sea,
I don't expect a beauty, as I know there will be few,
But even if she's very old, for us I am sure she'll do,
...

There's a constant and careful collecting,
Of strong brown paper and twine,
There's a special pen nib for directing,
Free flowing and not over fine,
...

There is peas, there is beans, there is carrots too,
There is rich steak, pud, and Irish Stew,
There is cocoa, tea and milk to drink,
There is herring good and salmon pink,
...

There's a boat in the harbour at Hamburg,
Waiting to take you back home,
Back to a land of freedom,
Back to your home sweet home.
...

When next you hear the belfry chime,
Console yourself that you are doing "time",
Throughout the war our fight continues,
Against old man time we direct our sinews,
...

Deep in Devon's heart it lies,
Beside a rippling, brambled stream,
Once mirrored in my waking eyes,
It comes to me again in dream.
...

Now I was unlucky when the Jerrys caught me,
Where the cliffsof St. Valerie sweep down to the sea.

We'd have fought to the last like a dog for a bone,
...

We were captured at St. Valerie,
Surrounded by aircraft and tanks,
There were guns, mortars, machineguns,
Spitting death in the midst of our ranks.
...

In a prison camp in Poland,
With barbed wire around the door,
A soldier with his mess tin,
Went to the cooks for more,
...