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Little Blonde Girl
London 2020
The little blonde knew
that looks were important.
Her mother said she was lucky,
they liked blonde hair.
Her mother was scared.
She tensed up, when they were near.
Her father wasn’t scared,
he knew no fear.
She twirled her golden locks
as they passed the two officers.
A charming smile, she knew,
could easily earn a wink or two.
They didn't seem so bad.
But bad they were, they took Daddy.
She never stopped looking,
waiting for him to come back.
Post war and teen
she felt somewhere unseen
he might, he could, he must
be alive.
The years rolled past,
she kept looking.
She knew he was dead
too much left unsaid.
A smile, a kind word,
looks are important.
They get people talking
They bring them together.
The little blonde girl
never gave up,
and finally found her father.
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