The Uninvited Guest

It was my birthday
I was seven, maybe eight.
I had friends to tea
To celebrate.

It was a hot August day
With clear blue skies
But the party soon changed
To frightened cries.

We were playing a tune
On the old gramophone,
When under the music
Came the sinister drone.

The sirens they sounded,
The tone up and down.
The chidren they scattered
To their homes in the town.

Three black painted planes
With crosses that shone,
Came to my party
But soon they were gone.

The bombs they crunched down,
The bakery flattened.
I will always remember
The day that it happened.

Written when I was about twelve

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