Accidental sonnet of the swing

Toddle run stomp in a fizzy giggle burst
Through the gates. I field dreams of flight.
I know each small hand that picks me first –
Clings my strings, pumps with tiny might.
Some mums join in, aiming to achieve
Lost ribbons of twin-plaited aviation
My wire skeleton frames what they believe:
Woolly hat heads to an unseen constellation.
I only hear cries when it’s time to go home
For they’ve hitched their bright star to my wagon
They gain time and mine runs out now they’ve grown
From their shared dream; a lost magic dragon.
The salt squeak of chains tell tales on my fears
Keep me in play and betray my own tears.

Clamped

Abusive or violent behaviour
Will not be tolerated, so says the
Yellow sitting tortoise on a clank chain.

Warning it smirks, photos have been taken
Great snaps; future legal evidence.
Big words from the beak-mouthed squatter, tongue link
And jaw clamp masticate my Saturday.

Shredded like salad with the slugs left in
I call. I wait. I cry. I wait. I wait -
Whine wobble lipped at a walled up weekend.

You… and Me.

You think
The hang dog, puppy dog catalogue of looks
Miss their mark.

And you hope
Carnations, cool home crafted compilations
Light a spark

And you believe
Despatched bugs and repointed spark plugs
Make me debtor

And you feel
That you owe it to us both to write it, send it:
That letter.

I think, I hope, I believe, I feel
They don’t, they can’t, they won’t - it’s not real
Stop shuttering your eyes with that Vaseline lens
A wiped slate clean view finds me and you friends.

Accidental sonnet from a swing

They toddle run stomp in a fizzy giggle burst
Through the gates. I see their thirst for flight.
I know each small hand that picks me first –
Clings my strings, pumps with tiny might.
Some mums join in, aiming to achieve
Lost ribbons of twin-plaited aviation
My skeleton frame spins what they believe:
Woolly hat heads to an unseen constellation.
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They hitch their dream star to my wagon
As they grow up and gain time, mine’s run out:
A shared dream, a lost magic dragon

The salt squeak of chains forged from all these long years
Stop me from following and betray lonely tears.

As yet untitled

You think
The hang dog, puppy dog catalogue of looks
Miss their mark.

And you hope
Carnations, cool home crafted compilations
Light a spark

And you believe
Despatched bugs and repointed spark plugs
Make me debtor

And you feel
That you owe it to us both to write it, send it:
That letter.

I think, I hope, I believe, I feel
They don’t, they can’t, they won’t - it’s not real
Stop shuttering your eyes with that Vaseline lens
A wiped slate clean view finds me and you friends.