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