At play

my legs move the swing higher
as children await . . .
big kids on our swings

mean while we spot a group
with a ball determine it
should not land on the sand.

Stubbed by perhaps a creative one
a rebel plotted herself in sand.
to create a master piece.

a stroll down the track . .
coffee to be found
as the children play.

Temptation draws us in
watching youth stomp
on water springing from the ground.

Shall we dance ...
followed by images of me
looking like a drowned rat!

Howls begin to follow
coming from a small princess
as we wander across the track.

The werewolf sounds,
its almost dark. . .
images appear on walls.

Alleys filled with detailed pics,
Street art coats its walls,
darkness calls princess home.

Howling comes to rest,
we join the boys at the pub,
sipping on our wine.

Cheers to what tomorrow brings.

Debbie Chilton 2016