Standing at the edge of the land
Gulping down fresh sea air
Holding tightly to my father’s hand
I stare in awe at the ocean there.
I am eight years old but have never seen
Or smelt such purity
As much of my time has been spent underground
With no sense of futurity.
Now London and dark war thoughts are gone
Although barbed-wire reminders are here
We cannot yet go on the beach and have fun
For there are still many mines to clear.
I listen to the gentle waves
Lapping the shingle shore
During the war I had never heard
Such a soothing sound before.
My eyes sweep over the water
I am trying to think it through
“Does the sea stop when it reaches the sky
Where the green touches the blue?”
“No my child that’s the horizon
The sea flows much further away.
I was totally overawed by this thought
Mindful eyes were opened that day.
The horrors of war were left behind
The weeping and fear were past
I looked. I listened. I understood.
I was free! I was free at last!
