DRONFIELD’S BOMBS
In the nineteen forties war
One dark December night.
Adolph Hitler’s bombers came
And gave us all a fright.
They saw the flaming chimney stack
Of a northbound railway train.
Followed it and dropped their bombs
On Dronfield’s Wreakes Lane.
The bombs were small explosives
That started fires, Incendiaries no less!
And left our poor old Wreakes lane,
Scarred and in a bit of a mess.
But time is a great healer,
And the scars have long since gone.
Now Wreakes Lanes thriving once again,
After Dronfields war time bombs.
By
Alfred Weston
© Copyright Reserved 2003
In the nineteen forties war
One dark December night.
Adolph Hitler’s bombers came
And gave us all a fright.
They saw the flaming chimney stack
Of a northbound railway train.
Followed it and dropped their bombs
On Dronfield’s Wreakes Lane.
The bombs were small explosives
That started fires, Incendiaries no less!
And left our poor old Wreakes lane,
Scarred and in a bit of a mess.
But time is a great healer,
And the scars have long since gone.
Now Wreakes Lanes thriving once again,
After Dronfields war time bombs.
By
Alfred Weston
© Copyright Reserved 2003
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