When the world was bigger,

When the days were long,

When the night came quickly,

When my legs were strong,

I would climb the lamppost,

Right up to the light,

Swing upon the cross bar,

Holding really tight.


When the nights were lighter,

When we were out all day,

When a pound was riches,

When all we did was play,

Then I would write out numbers

In chalk upon the ground

And hop and jump for hours

Until the night came round.


When all my friends were little,

When I was little too,

When adults were like giants,

When there was lots to do,

I’d pull the blankets round me,

The world would fade from sight,

I’d lose myself in stories,

‘Til late into the night.

3 thoughts on “Little

  1. Do I ever identify with this poem, O. The last time I tried to do a flip-over on a monkey bar I was in my late 30’s and it sounded like every vertebra in my spine cracked. I landed on my feet, but knew “those” days were over! Enjoyed your insights and memories.

  2. Thanks. I’ve spent the last three days watching children fling themselves about at the dance festival and it’s reminded me that I used to be able to do that too. Oh well. Each thing in its own time, eh? 😉

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