Was so pleased when this one got published in a national book!
Gone but not forgotten
I walked outside my house
And there stood my horse,
My stallion, my steed,
Stuck firmly in mortar, mud and weed.
Eyes firmly closed I ride
With my friend close by my side.
On our garden wall of course!
At the end of my road
The swing rope tied to a tree,
Floating high above the sea,
My long blonde hair hangs freely,
Reaching mountains 'cross the ocean
Swinging rope that's now in motion.
Along the river Lea.
I'd built many a den
Out of blankets, cushions and chairs,
Rowing boats from airing stands;
Drawing up some sketchy plans.
Held together with clothes pegs,
Draped over table legs
Hideaways at the bottom of my stairs.
I've created little people
With beating hearts, alive with feelings
Out of paper clips,
Moving limbs with Mums' hairgrips.
Paper Mache made their beds
And at dusk they lay their heads
Shadows dancing on the ceiling.
In bygone days when Caterpillars were my pets,
Stroked their fur and watched them curl
Until it was time;
A tiger moth no longer mine,
Flying unknown into pastures new
Left behind the safety that she knew.
Like the woman from the little girl.
24th August 2005
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