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 ramblings and things

Summer  circa 1953

The long branches of Weeping Willow
Stretched down as though to sweep
The grass of the big front lawn
Where the Old Vicarage seemed to sleep
The overhang forming an enclosed
Almost complete cool green tent
Where on those long summer's days
Some of us younger boys went
To chat and play
Blissfully unaware
Our noise told all
Just where we were
Calmed by the breeze shaken leaves
Our own little world of filtered light
Curtained enclosed secured
Away from adult sight
Many plans being planned
Many dreams being dreamed
Much mischief's thought of
Many schemes being schemed
In a sort of stillness
Of soft leafy sighs
As long afternoons
Crept deliciously by
Until the maybe evening hunger
Sent us scurrying home one by one
And the old Weeping Willow settled
To peaceful sleep with its charges gone
And maybe the Old Vicarage checked
To see all was safe secure and right
Before it and the old Weeping Willow
Settled down to a warm and peaceful night

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