We got scolded when we climbed
the lemon tree, or if we did,
forbidden to sit on its branches;
they might give way, and we
could fall and hurt ourselves,
and then we mustn’t run to Nan
with our head under our arm.
She wouldn’t give a tinker’s cuss,
or so she said.
But today it was all right. Zac
made this dreadful concoction
out of dandelion leaves; maintained
it was magic. Drink it, and we’d be
invisible. It was kind of a squeeze –
him and me, but if we both
squashed up a bit, it was OK.
I liked it up there, the one place
in the world he could teach me
all those words a girl’s not meant
to know, let alone say. Then,
Nan would shake her duster from
an upstairs window, but she never
spotted us.
He said he’d give me his last
Rolo, although, as it so turned out,
there was another in his pocket –
albeit disgusting...covered in crud.
And I asked if he fancied a fruit drop...
except there weren’t any left,
and I knew it. Just banked on him
saying no; brung up the posh way,
as he was.
Then, Nan brought us kids
a jug of homemade lemonade
with a look that said, “Ain’t
nothin’ new under the sun. Anyways,
I’ve seen it all before – and some."
Bitter sweet, it tasted...as the kiss
he stole, and those lies we told,
one to another.
Comments
skinner_jennifer | November 4, 2011 - 09:22
What a wonderful piece of writing.
You know that old saying, "kids will be kids?"
Well that's how I read this. I loved the bit
about:-
But today it was all right. Zac
made this dreadful concoction
out of dandelion leaves; maintainted
it was magic. Drink it, and we'd be
invisible. It was kind of a squeeze -
him and me, but if we both
squashed up a bit, it was OK.
I loved this stanza because it reminded me of when
I was young and dad used to say carrots helped you
see in the dark, so me and a friend went to my
Grandpa's allotment and ate as many carrots as we
could, thinking the more we ate, that we would get
super human powers and beable to see really well in
the dark the more we ate. All we got was very sick.
The things children do!
Anyway thanks for sharing and I hope you are having
a good day. It's supposed to rain here, so not much
chance of getting the washing hung out. Oh well! never mind.
Have a great weekend.
Jenny.
Silver Spun Sand | November 4, 2011 - 09:55
Hi there, Jenny, so pleased you go so much enjoyment from this;-) As you say 'things children do';-)
Many thanks for sharing your memories, too, and I hope you have a peaceful Friday.
Tina
Highhat | November 5, 2011 - 06:37
You have an incredible memory Tina and a knack of relating children's feelings and moods. As though you still were a child. I suppose we all have a child in us. Mine is hard to find ! Anyway this is very atmospheric. Well done.
;)Pia
Silver Spun Sand | November 5, 2011 - 09:26
Thanks, so very much, Pia;-)
So pleased you enjoyed. As you say, there's a child somewhere in all of us;-)
Tina ;-)
seashore | November 6, 2011 - 11:11
Just catching up a bit and had to stop and say I absolutely loved this, Tina. Not many people could make this work as a poem but you surely have - a wonderful read. x
Silver Spun Sand | November 6, 2011 - 11:19
Thanks, so very much, Coral, for your lovely comment;-)
Hope you are enjoying a peaceful Sunday.
Tina x
MistakenMagic | November 6, 2011 - 16:02
A very poignant little episode expertly told, Tina. We used to have an apple tree in my garden - and I never quite made it to the top before my dad chopped it down. Thanks for bringing back memories ;-)
Magic xxx
Silver Spun Sand | November 6, 2011 - 17:02
Pleased you enjoyed, Magic, and thanks for telling me;-)
Tina xxx