One Long Summer

My mind goes backwards

To one long hazy summer

Of being a child, paired with your mother.

Dusty playground, blonde hair flying,

Thick white socks, falling and crying,

Red and black ladybirds on the flowers,

With friends, passing away the hours.

Satsumas and sandwiches, chairs outside,

Taking home a painting filled with pride,

Running fast, serious games,

Knowing all the children’s names.

Days that seemed to last forever,

Teachers talking, becoming clever,

Building an egg cart, making a mess,

Standing in a white and blue dress.

Sports on the field, daisies, dandelions and bees,

Laughing and shouting, cut and bruised knees.

Happily not knowing what to do with your time,

Do you know you’re in your prime?

Playing with your sister or on your own,

There’s nothing wrong with being alone.

Cuddling your mother, smelling her perfume,

Sitting on her lap, just you in the room.

Sunday roasts and long trudging walks,

Saturday shops and Dad’s stern talks.

Flashing trainers, soft rabbits,

Counting and counting, funny habits.

Climbing trees in your best friend’s garden,

Don’t say what, please say pardon,

Imagining a fantasy world together,

Unaware of time and the weather.

Falling asleep in the back of the car,

Being eight and getting that scar.

Orange juice and milk before bed,

Eat your dinner and grow strong, they said.

Pushing carrots around a plate,

Hurry up or you might be late,

Lying awake while it’s still light,

Hearing fairies voices in the night.

Crackling fire and cake at your grandparents place,

Remember when everything seemed a race,

Has something changed in her face?

Keep up or you might lose the pace.

Sharing a room, chatting after lights out,

What did we even talk about?

Duffle coats and woolly tights,

Kissing and hugging and having fights.

Singing hymns, bored in church,

Hiding afterwards beneath the birch,

Dancing, swimming, jumping, hopping,

Being young and never stopping.