What was that noise?
I didn’t here anything, . . . but, wait!
There’s something outside the window!
. . . . . . . . .
The room was eerily dark, furniture few,
The slightest sound echoed around the room,
Across the wooden floor, – high ceiling too.
In silence, we waited, quietly in the gloom.
There it was again, . . . the crunch of feet!
Was someone sussing out our quiet abode?
The muffled sound of voices in the backstreet,
Our imagination drifted into overload.
Quickly, softly I slipped from my warm bed,
Then tip-toed my way to the windowsill,
Ready to bop the intruder on the head, . . .
All about the room was eerily still!
Shadowy figures drifted past our fence,
Apart from their sound of feet on gravel,
The atmosphere in our room was so tense,
Waiting for this story to unravel!
I parted the blind the merest chink,
Peered out into the predawn, morning light.
We really didn’t know what to think,
Perhaps, inside, hoped things would turn out right!
Were these smugglers, drifting through the dark
Laden with contraband, hidden from our eye?
Kipling’s ‘Smuggler Song’, loomed fresh and stark,
“Watch the wall my darling, As the Gentlemen ride by.”
A muffled word or two drifted through the air,
An oath or two, as one stumbled in the dark.
There seemed to be quite a gathering there.
The numbers grew and waited in the park.
A bugle rent the misty air, ‘The Last Post’!
Suddenly, the penny dropped, became clear,
ANZAC Day since then has been uppermost
In our minds, evoking memories dear.
ANZAC Day in nineteen sixty-six together,
King Street, Smithton, Tasmania, – partners!
Just married: fifty-eight days, altogether.
Since then, ANZAC Days increased in numbers.
Today is our fifty-fifth ANZAC Day,
We’re both still traveling and aging well.
Challenges, we’ve both had along the way.
Each day is precious, friends and family as well.
ANZAC DAY, 2020.