He courted her during the war, The boy from Reading Who joined the R.A.F. Handsome in his uniform, Quite a catch. But he thought she would say no, Maybe wouldn’t go If she knew, so he lied
It doesn’t really Lead anywhere, The lane where we live. Except to the chapel, And the mushroom farm, At the end. We see the tractor Or the odd lorry Chugging up and down. And on Sunday
She stepped out of the door And shouted at a man in a suit, Thrust a plastic bag into his hand To clear up after his dog, But he just shrugged and walked off. In the park she had to ask