Wednesday, May 11, 2016



The likelihood is…
Warmly wrapped in anticipation as
A mitt-full of rustling leaves becomes
The sunburst starting point.
The crisp, fairy-like leaf fight heralds the
Raise of the tape and a mad frolic
Around the invisible maypole might just occur.
Swishing and spinning the swing-waltz is the firm favourite
While the wide-eyed pull of an old tyre on chains
Is an even bet in this, the first furlong.
The clanking of the rusty old chair swing
Beats out the numbers while Dad watches
Like a hawk for the return arc of his apple.
Sometimes, the best challenge becomes  
The check of the slide’s length - from its apex
To its inevitable chuckle ramp and
It’s an excitable romp-off, thereafter.
Sparkling veils of looming tree shadow foretell
The relaxation that will very rarely last long in the
Awkward constraint of the big ones – so they’re off!
Some tasty, skyward screaming ensues and
The all-encompassing temptation of further
Stomping and scamping pulls them ahead.
Then - quite suddenly, 
The release of energy pulls up on the certainty
And all is eventually tamed and calmed, 
Just a tad.
Now, the Held-Hand is a sure-fire winner when that
One stepping stone too far waits like a hungry troll -
Just over the Water-jump and under 
The Bridge of Bump’N’Shortsorrow.
On the sidelines, Mama Bear snaps and frames 
This climb to youth - and then, it’s out through the
Honed, biblical wood towards the
Hollywood happy ending -
Accompanied by the ebbing
Echo of that lone, clanking swing and a 
Tiny whisper that Spiderman loves Fairy.
Now, all that remains is the 
Dusky silhouette of a long play-day
And a soppy bottom lip of sorrow –

Images: Sheryl Fish, Oobaloos Photography
Poetry: Nick Masters, Sheryl's Daddy


  1. Beautiful depiction of words and pictures, Sheryl.