She made her way toward the line
The place the bridge gave cover
Where in the depths the people cried
Each wishing for their Mother
Above the ground the siren whined
She thought just of her lover
She stopped to hear the silent sign
London hit by another

Right then she fell unto the ground
A lightening strike so quick
Unable to tell up from down
Beside her a blood soaked brick
She prayed hard either to be found
Or for her end to be quick

From chaos she was found alive
In anger she felt no fear
No one beneath the bridge survived
Drowned by The River so near
If blood soaked brick had not arrived
Her fate at the bridge was clear

The woman in this story told
Was my Gran whom I loved so
If the brick had not knocked her cold
She’d have died at the bridge, I know
She lived to be a lady old
My amazing Grandma Flo


(C) Dean G. Parsons. 2017.





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