Playgrounds of Yesteryears
Pick up, discard. Ouch!! That one pricked. Pick up, discard. Aha, a champion!!
Children huddled in a corner of the playground, sharing eternal secrets.
Bake them, soak them in vinegar, put them in the airing cupboard! All the secrets of making a world beater.
A hole, a lace and an almighty swing, legend and dreams shattered, the defeat of a king.
Sore knuckles raised in celebration.
All confined to legend and myth.
Now, they just lay unpicked, unchosen, undiscovered champions.
The world has gone bonkers, now that kids can't play conkers.
~
Brought up in Doncaster, Graeme Needham now resides by the Sea in Scarborough, North Yorkshire, UK. Through past experiences, he has had the need to find mental peace in creativity. This started with his musical journey, being self-taught. He learned to play the mandolin, banjo and ukulele, enjoying hours playing traditional music, mainly Celtic. This led to his love of poetry, and in particular haiku and the imagery it conjours from so few words.
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