Friday, May 8, 2009



When I was eight years old
I ran wild with my cousins 
On the sands.
Our families shared a tent
From May to September every year.
We met our mothers after school.
They had been sitting in deck chairs all day
Knitting winter woolies.
We ate from  a card-table, 
Sometimes paddling our feet at the same time 
In the high tides.
When I was nine years old
The sands were forbidden.
Only the soldiers were free
To laze on the beach.
But they had to keep one eye
On their machine-guns.
We gazed at the sea
Through barbed wire,
Till we were removed and sent
Into the distant country.
It was a case of
Paradise Lost.
And we never regained it.


Lonely Rivers said...

Thank you for this memory. You have many stories to tell.

Every Photo Tells A Story said...

Oh, the lost of innocence. And, what a way to lose it.

Thank you for sharing what must be an unforgettable moment in time.

And, thank goodness you were never kept in...

Kat said...

Good to know in yester years Moms had been sitting in deck chairs all day
Knitting winter woolies." How nice.

Wars leave a bitter memory.

Unknown said...

There is such sadness in this piece! Well done!

Jackie said...

sad mad war . I got caught in some barbed wire that was in the ocean .

Susan Anderson said...

Wonderful and poignant.


Judie said...

What a poignant post. A great piece of writing, this!

Su-sieee! Mac said...

I agree. This is a wonderful piece of writing. I see and feel so much from reading it. Living in war is a reality I can't ever fathom. I am very grateful for that.

RedTedArt said...

Oh wow. What a happy and sad post at the same time. Your 8yrs old memories sound wonderful. Your 9yrs old memories not... War really is a tragic thing.


Pondside said...

These memories of ordinary lives in extraordinary times need to be written down. What a confusing and frightening time that must have been for the nine-year-old you.

Jenny said...


I am




This was wonderfully compelling and poignant and moving and visual...

And I sat here and read it several times.

This needs published. Somewhere. For everyone to read.

The price of war is unimaginable.

Thank you for linking this.

I won't even discount this writing by giving it my silly weekly grade.

I am beyond impressed Brenda.