.the war house. by Sonja Benskin Mesher

I am not a silent poet

dug within for strength, without for vegetables.

tidy allotments  for food. primroses came by post; my father.

war was declared before me.

they said that some hid in outside toilets to avoid the bombs. there were hits in bournemouth.

some dads dug deep for shelter in the garden.  anderson, half buried.  flower beds planted with veg.

peace times, families stored their potatoes , rather than waste. rationing continued.

i remember the implications, was told the facts later.

much later.

the war house & after.

now

we dig within for solidity, solidarity, power to continue.  food is plenty.

in wales find they grew potatoes here. i have a          photograph.

I still hide under tables.

war house

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