AFTER THE BUBBLE BURSTS

Can I stay here a little longer
Where my worries get no stronger
Inside this bubble I am protected
No duties, no roles of me expected.

Where dad carries me through to bed
Mum leaving a kiss on my head
A warm house, and a cosy home
Full of dreams I used to roam

The streetlight curfew telling me time,
The old oak tree I used to climb
Where I felt the warm summer breeze
The wind blowing on my two skint knees

Where gran would make me crispy cakes
And ice cream cones with crushed up flakes.
Grandad showing me magic tricks
and making castles with Lego bricks

Disposable camera with an empty spool
Summer jumps into the pool
Collecting shells upon the sand
and walks to school hand in hand.

Comforting my sister from her bad dream
Looking for tadpoles within the stream
Watching TV on a Sunday morning
Friends chap the door with no warning

The bubble strains about to burst
I hold on tight and expect the worst
I see it struggle and pop, and then
here I am an adult again…

acrylic on canvas, 61 x 76cm
Poem by me

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No. pieces

Medium