SHARD END, BIRMINGHAM: 'STARK CHILDHOOD NIGHTS...'

Stark Childhood Nights

Those seemingly starched linen 

Sheets:

So cold,

The water bottle made 

Little difference.

Those assuredly dark nights

Alone:

So bitter,

The steam-breath made

Ghostly essence…

Then the rattling began,

Wind-blown from the River Cole;

A vehicle passing across

The wooden Bailey Bridge

Tortured my tired soul…

Then the roaring began,

Wind-carried from Elmdon Airport;

A revving of aircraft engines

Spewing a runway cacophony.

Timid, my fear I fought.

Those markedly quieter nights,

Eerie:

So distant,

The isolation made

Uncomfortable peace.

Those uniquely post-war twilights,

Extinct:

So stark,

The disquiet made

Nervous unease.

Pete Ray

THE CAT, RICKY, LOOKED BETTER IN MY SCHOOL TIE THAN I DID...

RARE IMAGE OF ME NOT KICKING A FOOTBALL...

WHERE I WASN'T ALLOWED TO KICK A BALL...

THE REASON WHY I NEVER WEAR A HAT TO THIS DAY...
IT WAS CLARET & BLUE FOR A START...

It seemed that the wind would drag the rattling sounds of vehicles passing over the River Cole Bridge to my bedroom, plus the rather unpleasant accompanying smell from the river. 

At weekends, an airliner opened up its engines to echo in the Shard End night skies.