My childhood summers had long carefree days
dabbling our tip toes in cool trickling streams.
We carved our names in the bark of trees
made secret dens with passwords and no grown ups
and ate picnics with earth tasting fingers.
Then down to the beach with buckets and spades
our fingers and toes wrinkling in the sea
we ran on sandy smoothed skin of soft young feet
in wide open spaces – one world – our world.
What more could we wish for
only ice cream for breakfast.
All memories now, the days are still long
tea and biscuits come round on a trolley
while the TV chatters in the corner.
“Oh! Visitors”. – “For me.” – “Who are they?”
“Confused” – “Not me.” – “But keep your eye on them.”
Smiling faces in light blue uniforms
make beds and help wash and care for us.
Someone moves us to meals and meals to us
the days just flow into one another.
Is it still unreasonable to want
ice cream for breakfast.
Elaine Morris (c)