Here I Give Thanks

To my mum and dad, thank you.
Affection, encouragement, restraint on near death –
Those experiments we boys must do.

We had everything, everything except money.
Home-made trailer, roof rack, ‘48 Vauxhall, four kids.
Holidays, sunburn, swimming, free fish.
When the money ran out, we came home.

Mum made clothes, darned socks and trousers.
Second hand was new. “It fits!” And Dad knew stuff.
Stuff about nails, thumbs and hammers and helped
Me fix the letter box that Mum didn’t back into.
“Six lamb loin chops please and Dad gets paid on Thursday.”

My Dad survived the war, the song of shrapnel, the fear . . .
until, “Do you notice something different Dear?’
Curtains? Dad’s eyes darting, Hairdo?
“Well?” Us kids knowing, silent smiling, God bless Mum and Dad.