Poetry
A small selection of Teresa's poetry. Each of Teresa's poems are accompanied by a photograph in her book Women, War and Peace. Discover more poems in Teresa's book 'Women, War and Peace.
The Parachute Drop
Swaying
Undulating
So gently descending
In white waves
The flowers of youth came down.
They kissed the tall trees
And church spires
As they made for the village green
And the roads
And back gardens seen
On the way
To the aerodrome
It was blue sky above us
White clouds with no motion
Sunday bells ringing
As we watched from the windows
Peace all around
Soon to be shattered
As the parachutes landed
We saw soldier men
And guns to the fore
They missed Biggin Hill
But we caught them
On a quiet Sunday morning
When a vision of flowers his death at our door
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Whizz Bang
Whizz bang Whizz bang and Whizz bang again
The war unfolds me like a grey holey blanket.
Bombs on the ground Bullets in the air
Shrapnel everywhere
Deep cuttings – thousand pounds that one said.
Bright sunny morning the fighter’s fly
Breaking into the clouds, into the sky
Where are the spitfires – too high. Messerschmitt sorties
Dive for cover
To stay alive.
Whizz bang and hump, bombs and the lump.
If you can hear it, it won't hit you.
Hard, hard the shelter floor as you count the bombs
Whizz and then wait, a moment later
A bomb – in the morning see the crater
Torn by the tragedy, glad to be missed
Pick up the shrapnel, bang on and whizzed.
Now, in the dark, sleepless the whizz,
Comes to confront me. The bang is a rumble
And the V1s and 2s stop short in the night
And incendiary bombs fill us up with light
My favourite holly burns to the sky
Oh whizz bang and hump from Hitler, but why?
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Keston Ponds
I was walking through the trees at Keston Ponds
picking over the tangled roots
carpeted by pine tree pins
and seeing shadows of rhododendrons
mauve at the water’s edge.
Broke the fine ripples of the inner lake
my soul retreat.
blue sky havened the lake water
peace made its home on this silent worlds
I was the watchman of the lakeside.
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then the water swirled behind, above and before
thunder came near
frightened but no afraid
I was caught up by the rider on a galloping horse
snatched off pine roots, swirled through branches
as we flew over trees, and into the sky and the dazzling sun
and the fire-chasing winds.
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To My Soldier
You are coming home, my love
Battered from the fields of war
Where hate reigns
Snipers lie on the ground
Tanks run in formation
Oh the roaring planes
Blood and death, the screams of the wounded
Echo through the valleys and hills
You are coming home, my love
To warm arms and scented fingers
To where there is no hate
Songs sing in the air
Formations are clouds
Soft breezes await
Birdsong and calm in our valleys
Love the only touch of fire
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