A pipe stands
In the corner of a small courtyard
Bounded by a low wall
It overlooks a lawn
Which runs down to a pond
Filled with sticky lumps of frog spawn
Newts dart out from under leaves
And with slithery darts of their tongues
They catch and swallow their prey

The pond is cradled by a path
Which leads up to a thicket of oak trees
The fruit of which crumbles and crunches
Under our boots as we skip and jump
To the swings,
It is dusk now and with whoops of laughter
We run through the gate
Just before it is locked shut by the park keeper
Who smiles and says goodnight
Boiled eggs under felt cosys
Await with toasted, buttered soldiers
We chuckle at The Clitheroe Kid,
Oak leaves and grass stick to the bath
As the water gurgles away.
One by one each of us stands
On the wooden box next to the sink
Swaddled with warm towels
As we brush our teeth
I pull on my pyjamas
A song plays in my head
‘What do you want if you don’t want money?’
The sheets are cold but the heavy blankets bring warmth
And a sense of safety as the music in my head
Lulls me to sleep
“What do you want….
…if you don’t want dough?”

I wake in the night
My legs are stiff with age
I turn in my bed
And I remember
A tear drops on to my pillow
My body sinks as again sleep overtakes me
The dream is over now
But the song continues
“Wish you wanted my love baby…..”

In the morning,
I have forgotten that I was….
That I was……….where was it, now?
No, it’s gone.
Never mind,
One day, I may go there again