a very British poem.
The smell of shoe polish and summer,
The taste of dandelion and burdock lemonade,
The sun as rosy red as it ever was,
My grandmother’s arm around me
Kissing the top of my head,
The days of leaving home for school
Knowing everyone who mattered would still be there.
The Beano and Dandy on a Thursday,
Man from Uncle and Top Of The Pops.
One day ,
A long, long time ago,
I quietly passed perfection
And didn’t even notice.