Always My Home



I played amongst the rubble
Of this City, torn by war.
Then marveled at the street lights
That I’d never seen before.
Once the bombs stopped falling,
And the sirens ceased their drone
People left the shelters
And, those who could … went home.

The 40s and the 50s
Saw re-building and repair
Of homes that housed a people
Who never did despair.
The sixties found a vibrance
Kick-started by the young.
Who showed the world their spirit
Through their music and their song.

Now I’ve grown, I understand
What elders had to do,
To keep this country’s freedom
For them … for me … for you.
So now I’d like to thank them -
Like they’ve not been thanked before -
For pulling this great City
From the ravages of War.


By Jean Neale