V E Day At Chickerell – Poem

This is one of a series of poems, written by my Grandmother, that represent a portrait of her childhood in Thomas Hardy’s Wessex, places and people she loved who are, for the most part, no longer with us. She dedicates each and every poem to her daughters, and has kindly given me permission to share them with you all, enjoy…

 

 

V E Day At Chickerell

I remember V E Day. Some of the

Ladies from the village organised

A celebration. In a field high up

Above the village, they realised

 

A childhood dream. A mound of furniture

Higher than the houses round about,

Or so it seemed, and seated on the top,

An effigy of Hitler. No doubt

 

Their happiness was touched with sadness

For sons and husbands who would not

Return, and lost years, when children grew

Without a father’s care. But see

 

The baker’s wife proudly upon the

back of an old lorry. Dressed as Churchill,

Complete with huge cigar, her hands raised in

Victorious salute. Nothing will

 

Erase the thrill as that gigantic pyre

Flared up to set alight again a world grown

Used to darkness. And for one night, at least,

Fire cauterised our fears, and hopes were sown.

 

© Dorothy Davis-Sellick 1998 onwards

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Filed under Meet The Family, Other Folks Writings That I Like, Poem Of The Week, Poetry

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