The Romans in Britain
(A history in 40 words)

The Romans gave us aqueducts,
fine buildings and straight roads,
where all those Roman legionaries
marched with heavy loads.

They gave us central heating,
good laws, a peaceful home …
then after just four centuries
they shuffled back to Rome.

Why are there hairs in your nose, Daddy;
why all those hairs in your nose?
Those are vibrissae, my darling;
vibrissae, as everyone knows!

Why are there hairs on your chest, Daddy;
why are there no hairs on mine?
Hairs on your chest will come later, my son;
hairs on the chest take some time!

Why’s there no hair on your head, Daddy;
why not a hair on your head?
Hair on the head is an optional extra -
now eat up your dinner, then bed!

Why are there hairs in your nose, Daddy;
why all those hairs in your nose?
Those are vibrissae, my darling;
vibrissae, as everyone knows!

Why are there hairs on your chest, Daddy;
why are there no hairs on mine?
Hairs on your chest will come later, my son;
hairs on the chest take some time!

Why’s there no hair on your head, Daddy;
why not a hair on your head?
Hair on the head is an optional extra -
now eat up your dinner, then bed!

Build me a castle,
the young boy cried,
as he tapped his father’s knee.
But make it tall
and make it wide,
with a king’s throne just for me.

An echo drifted on the wind,
sang deep and wild and free:
Oh you can be king of the castle
but I am lord of the sea.

Give me your spade,
the father cried;
let’s see what we can do!
We’ll make it wide
so it holds the tide,
with a fine throne just for you.

He dug deep down
in the firm damp sand,
for the tide was falling fast.
The moat was deep,
the ramparts high,
and the turrets tall and vast.

Now I am king,
the young boy cried,
and this is my golden throne!
I rule the sands,
I rule the seas;
I’m lord of all lands, alone!

The sand-king ruled
from his golden court
and it seemed the wind had died;
but at dusk his throne
sank gently down
in Neptune’s rolling tide.

And an echo rose upon the wind,
sang deep and wild and free:
Oh you may be king of the castle
but I am lord of the sea.

Who dips, dives
swoops out of space,
a buzz in his wings
and sky on his face;
now caught in the light,
now gone without trace,
a sliver of glass,
never still in one place?

Who’s elusive as pickpocket,
lord of the flies;
who moves like a rocket,
bound for the skies?
Who’s catapult, aeroplane,
always full-throttle?
Sky-diver, Jumping Jack,
comet, bluebottle!

Why are there hairs in your nose, Daddy;
why all those hairs in your nose?
Those are vibrissae, my darling;
vibrissae, as everyone knows!

Why are there hairs on your chest, Daddy;
why are there no hairs on mine?
Hairs on your chest will come later, my son;
hairs on the chest take some time!

Why’s there no hair on your head, Daddy;
why not a hair on your head?
Hair on the head is an optional extra -
now eat up your dinner, then bed!

George, lend a hand
and spread that cloth,
the sand is everywhere!
Just look at that,
you’d never think
it took hours to prepare!

What is it, Mum?

There’s

ham with sand,
and spam with sand,
there’s chicken paste
and lamb with sand;
oranges, bananas,
lemonade or tea;
bread with sand
all spread with sand -
at least the sand comes free!
We’ve crisps with sand
and cake with sand -
it’s grand with lunch or tea -
crunch it up,
enjoy it love,
at least we’re by the sea!

Winter

Winter crept
through the whispering wood,
hushing fir and oak;
crushed each leaf and froze each web -
but never a word he spoke.

Winter prowled
by the shivering sea,
lifting sand and stone;
nipped each limpet silently -
and then moved on.

Winter raced
down the frozen stream,
catching at his breath;
on his lips were icicles,
at his back was death.

The Romans in Britain
(A history in 40 words)

The Romans gave us aqueducts,
fine buildings and straight roads,
where all those Roman legionaries
marched with heavy loads.

They gave us central heating,
good laws, a peaceful home …
then after just four centuries
they shuffled back to Rome.