A Cautionary Tale

A Cautionary Tale

Boys were bewitched when word got round

That tanks and guns and heavy things could be found

By Hexthorpe Bridge.

Scattered around below the ramp were things heaven sent

For boys hell bent on winning the war;

Killing the Hun with tank and gun and all before

The shout and run.

Like plagues of mice they infested and molested everything

in sight; armoured cars and tanks were abandoned in serried ranks,

just asking to be inspected.

Amongst the cars and tanks and other ranks

Were hand grenades casually scattered;

Strewn amongst the battered relics of war.

With heavy pockets of deadly loot

The boys dispersed before the shout

And headed each to his own redoubt.

Young Tom from number seventy-two

Crept silently through lane and yard

Until, unheard, he pulled the pin and lobbed

in his grenade.

The heavy lump crossed linoed floor

And clattered loudly against a door

Before all hell broke loose.

Young Tom was thrashed and sent to bed

While mum calmed gran and led the disposal man

to where they had fled the bomb

'Don't worry,' said he, 'it's only pretend, for training soldiers

before we send them away with the real thing.'

No harm was done, but Tom learned then

That chucking grenades from Hexthorpe Bridge

Against the door of grandma's fridge

Was not a good idea.