JANICE AND YOU AND THE CATAPULT.

JANICE AND YOU AND THE CATAPULT.

A Poem by Terry Collett
"

A BOY AND GIRL IN LONDON IN THE 1950S AND A CATAPULT AND DOLL

"
Janice sat beside you
on the bombsite
off Meadow Row
looking towards

the New Kent Road
watching the people
and traffic pass
you with your catapult

and she with the doll
her gran had bought her
from the market in the Cut
Gran said those are dangerous

Janice said
pointing at the catapult
not if you’re careful
and responsible

you said
but they fire stones
she said
guns fire bullets

you said
they can kill people
David killed Goliath
with a stone

she said
I heard it in church
I only fire at tin cans
or other such targets

you said
she looked at the sky
at pigeons flying overhead
what about birds?

she asked
no I don’t shoot at birds
although I did fire
at a rat once

but missed
and it ran off
I hate rats
she said

there was one
on our balcony once
and it frightened me to death
you laughed

you remember that coalman
who stomped on that one
along the balcony by your flat?
yuk

she said
horrible blood and guts
everywhere
and on his boot

you said
she hugged her doll
close against her
don’t remind me

you studied the doll
in her arms
the way it was close
to her chest

her hands caressing
the painted china head
the yellow flowered dress
and small white socks

and black plastic shoes
you’d make a good mum
you said
watching her rock

the doll in her arms
do you think so?
she asked
yes

you said
maybe one day
I will have a real baby
she said

and rock it to sleep
and feed it with a bottle
and burp it
and change its nappy

like I saw a lady do
in the toilets
of Waterloo station
and Gran said

it wasn’t hygienic
not there of all places
Gran said
I’d have to have

a peg on my nose
if I had to change
a baby’s nappy
you said

I think men
have weaker stomachs
than women do
she said

I think mothers
are given stronger stomachs
when they have babies
it’s God way of helping them

deal with babies
I’d rather have a catapult
than a baby
you said

or a doll
do you want to hold my doll
and I can hold your catapult?
she asked

no thanks
you replied
if my mates saw me
I’d never live it down

she kissed the doll’s head
and said
likewise
but there was a smile

on her lips
and a sparkle
in her eyes
and a beauty

in the way she sat
in her orange coloured dress
and bright red beret hat.


© 2013 Terry Collett


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Added on February 23, 2013
Last Updated on February 23, 2013
Tags: BOY, GIRL, LONDON, 1950S, CATAPULT, DOLL

Author

Terry Collett
Terry Collett

United Kingdom



About
Terry Collett has been writing since 1971 and published on and off since 1972. He has written poems, plays, and short stories. He is married with eight children and eight grandchildren. on January 27t.. more..

Writing