For some time I have marvelled at the size and number of the potholes and craters at the Fisherman s car park near the River at the end of Willow Walk and wondered how they came to be there and why they are being protected seemingly in perpetuity. Perhap
For some time I have marvelled at the size and number of the potholes and craters at the Fisherman's car park near the River at the end of Willow Walk and wondered how they came to be there and why they are being protected seemingly in perpetuity.
Perhaps the attached poem will go some way to explain the origin of the craterial species.
Once upon some years ago in Ely as I lay abed
I heard the sound of engines passing overhead
I quickly rose from my bed and raced to the door
And stood in amazement at the sight that I saw
An airship was cruising in the stillness of the night
I clearly saw the outline a really imposing sight
I watched the airship slowly head toward the river
And in the darkness I felt cold and began to shiver
The zeppelin cruising like a tiger on the loose
Began to bomb the bridge across the Great Ouse
But the aim was faulty, the bombs missed their mark
They fell in profusion on the Fishermans car park
I knew not the damage but I clearly heard the sound
The whistle, the explosion, as the bombs hit the ground
Then the airship turned and headed on its homeward way
To hit some other target before break of another day
When the coast was clear and silence had come back
I rode my bike quickly toward the place of the attack
The smell of smoke dust and cordite still filled the air
A scene of devastation with craters everywhere
There was nothing I could do so I slowly rode away
And wondered how the Council would mark the historic day
Just recently I returned to Ely and went to the scene
Expecting to see the carpark restored and pristine
But the area remains the same as it was at last sight
The terrain still carries the scars from that horrific night
Clearly the council wanted to preserve the scene intact
So they left the craters there as a memorial to the attack
Dear friends believe me - I deceive you not for sure
the craters are as many now as they ever were before
and the cars as they enter swerve to avoid those craters
and in the winter they swerve to avoid the skaters
As you stroll beside the water you pass the historic site
the spot where all the bombs fell on that fateful night
And the crater filled car park, the place of which I talk
Is now a protected place, it's known as Zeppelin Walk.
W (Bill) Conroy (AKA Tuckerman)
Barton Road
Ely
- Do you want to flex your poetic muscles in the pages of the Ely Standard? Is there a burning local issue you feel should be set to verse?
Please send in your locally-themed poetry at the address above, or by e-mail: ian.ray@archant.co.uk
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