Back from mass

Across open fields Fear gripping.

Heart ponding.

Little legs racing.

Panic overtaking.

The little lass.

Was it only an hour before.

Delighting savouring the stroll to mass.

Now open fields exposing the child.

The four bushes only place to hide.

Above.

The plane she only seen the likes before.

On a newsreel raining bombs from its belly's door.

"War is declared" the wireless said.

Filling the Sunday with dread.

Plane roaring coming in low.

Zeroing in on the only target on show.

The house her father built.

Above The Brickfields flat as a quilt.

In the four bushes tearful prayers Begging.

Little mouth chanting.

"Mary mother ofgod, Marymotherofgod, Marymother-"

Plane cutting through smoke of sod.

Bearly missing chimney pot.

Her fears coming to nought.

Plane climing high into sky.

Becoming dot.

She ran past the cow sheds.

Scatering Lizzy a red chicken.

Into mammys arms the heart of the kitchen.

Her childs terror hugged and rocked away with-

"Hush Biddy hush, war is to far to get us."

War would come home with other childern.

What did the mammy's do then?