Four little people, sitting still, so sweet and very small.
Three little girls and one small boy with a ringlet in his hair
Edwardian dresses, sweetest smiles and a dulcet, graceful air…
They are long gone who sit and watch, forever on that wall.
They travelled far, they fought in wars, they all grew proud and tall
They married and had children, and it’s us who carry on
As the generations roll on by; night followed by day’s morn.
I remember them as people who walked and talked in life
Who dealt with life’s small struggles as well as loss and strife
But if my sons and grandson even glance up there at all
Felix, Biddy, Peta Dodie are just children on a wall.