Cheshire monkey
Is talking in his sleep.
The ramblings of an old man
Comes alive in the dark.

He wraps his floppy arms
And ***** smile around each nightmare that finds me
Like a helter skelter anthropoid.

Amnesia becomes him
As he forgets paddling pools,
By the ears on the washing line
And strawberry puke.

He jumped from vine to vine,
Lily pads of the Avenue
Just to get back to the pushchair that left him in the cold.

Watched from Butlins windows,
Happy to see the adventurer in me
When I take him from place to bewildering place.

Breathes whimsical words,
Amour propre,
Everything that makes him the best friend I ever had.