It should have been a doddle my car needing fuel with the garage about five hundred yards from me. I shudder as I think of my journey; simplicity itself with the click of a key
The swimming pool might be gone as have the tiny changing rooms yet my memories linger on to childish things; shut away. I'm still the same but older watching the swings at play
I used to be a cat person; my first pet Timmy was carried from my grand-fathers farm here in Northamptonshire. It isn't a farm now but a sprawling housing estate in Rushden.
Where have all the years gone to Hoovers that clean alone. I'm no domestic goddess you see when he's here instead. I can't turn the mattress or make a fuss with my arm in plaster.
I thought you'd be there forever; as cricketers played, our church bells threaded the nights and meadows became green once more. Braille books delivered on black sturdy bike.
