Running down the cobbles by Suzanne Hudson
Little Charlie Haigh Running up the cobbles And rushing into school Just before the bell. Chalk squeaking on slate As he copies out his alphabet, Hand shaking in fear As the teacher’s steps come closer. Chanting his times tables And longing for the day to end, When he can run down those cobbles Towards freedom in the woods. I wish I could tell him That 130 years from now Children in this classroom Would be learning about him. I’m glad he didn’t know then About the horrors of the trenches And the sacrifice that he would make With seventy others from his school. He could never have guessed That his name would be listed On a gleaming gold plaque In the school’s entrance hall And that a class would be learning About his life in Dewsbury Before that piece of shrapnel Delivered its fatal wound. He could never have predicted That his name would be honoured And his life would be remembered Two centuries into...