(Little boys will be boys).
Such then is your magic world
of wooden staves and special powers,
for bravery, chivalry and derring-do,
each tree stump a task
each bridge enchanted,
so too the stepping-stones
crooked in the fathomless trickling brook.
You ride with knights
their shirts tugged out,
fresh bloodied knees
ripe ruddy cheeks,
who follow you
through direst scrapes
to Avalon’s halcyon throne
and feasts of biscuits, milk and rest.
© Graham Sherwood 5/2013
