Capturing Toy Box Hill
You’ll never read about it in History books or tomes, Or in encyclopedias you find in finer homes. You’ll never hear it spoken of in lessons teachers tell; But I was there in person when we captured Toy Box Hill. An army made of broken men; some couldn’t stand at all, Plastic soldiers dressed in khaki, only two inches tall, In Bivouac near the train station assembled on the floor, We stood against the brightly painted wooden soldier corps Lionel train gondolas and flat cars carried stores, Of rubber band munitions and things that help win wars. While, in their bright regalia, atop the Toy Box roof The enemy relentlessly, stood brazen and aloof. Toy Box Hill had always been our home; we knew no other space Until one day last Christmas Wooden soldiers took our place.
But our boy has remained loyal, never tossing us away And he’s kept us all together in a place where we can play And though his parents bought him brand new soldiers bright and clean, Johnny preferred to keep our plastic army war machine. And many days with Johnny putting us all through the drill, We prepared for the battle, to retake Toy Box Hill. The wood soldiers outnumbered us, at least three times or more.
And General Tom, the neighbor kid, would help them fight the war. The rules were plain and simple, each soldier had to stand In his set place until struck down, killed by a rubber band. After the trumpet sounded and the shooting was all done, General Tom had none left standing and our tiny team had won. We had faced the final showdown and had fought our final war; And with pride we followed Johnny to the toy second hand store.
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