LOOKING AT THE SKY ON FRIDAY
When I was a child in the Second World War,
Searchlights were often seen
Criss-crossing each other across the sky;
Part of the wartime scene.
They sought out the enemy droning in,
For bombs would soon be dropped.
They switched off after the planes had gone
And the battle-cries had stopped.
The beams of those lights were lovely,
Though they filled our hearts with dread;
And none of us liked to be woken
When we were asleep in bed.
Now I see such lights in the evening sky
When the day is nearly done.
I feel blessed to be able to watch the beams
From a beneficent sun.
A very different Wartime memory here: