I am walking down Moon Marigold Avenue
Where on a warm summer’s afternoon
Two bandits came out of the sun
And needlessly opened fire on innocent civilians
Amazingly nobody was killed
But the milkman found a bullet lodged in the heel of his boot
When he returned from his round
That milkman was my father and I still have those boots
At present they are on loan to the Barton museum
As part of their Dig for Victory exhibition
I live at number thirty-three which is roughly opposite
The entrance to the old goods yard
This is now a business park overlooking the railway
I can hear but not see the passing trains
It has always been that way which I find comforting
There are various wartime relics to be found
Two pill boxes that now their use extinguished
Crumble slowly into the recent past
The crossing gates are still in situ but the lines have been lifted
They stare at the vacancy of their previous use
On the corner near the brow of the hill is a grocery shop
Which has always been run by the James family
I went to school with the twins Lily and Lyn
Their father died at Dunkirk
And their mum later married the landlord of the Five Bells
My brother lives with Lyn and now owns the shop
Much has changed yet much remains to give clue
To the quiet history of Moon Marigold Avenue Barton on Sea