From Devonport With Love

My dearest darlings, here I am
Forlorn in a foreign land;
Sweet smells of life abound,
Colour and toys and chocs around.
But every time I think of candy,
It just doesn’t seem so dandy
Without three eager mouths around
Dripping saliva to the ground.
And every time I look at toys,
Not far behind are my little boys,
And nearby too are crunching sounds
As of things being broken down.
Those days gone by, I can’t forget
As I sit here and visibly fret,
How three little fun-loving lives
Added to my heart’s archives;
How faces drooped and tears streamed
When at the door a beard gleamed;
How faces beamed when mischief lurked
A hair- breadth away from mama’s irk;
How sense and satisfaction met
When in front of the TV set.
One subject which I daren’t touch
But with the most reverent hush,
The ritual of the cartoon time,
Trance- like, transfixed, sublime.
How vivid these images of yore,
As I drag on through my chores.
Languish here I to dream all day
When homeward I would make my way,
To be greeted with cherubic smiles,
Which would make it worth my while
To have waited all this long
To end up where my heart belongs.

Note:This poem was written in February 1994 in the form of a letter (or the other way around) to my children, while I was at Plymouth, UK for the acquisition of PNS KHAIBAR (ex-HMS ARROW) as it’s Commanding Officer Designate.

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