The Return
by Emlyn Parry
I returned on a sudden summer, down mountains caped in gorse and fern, leapfrogging back on seasons rusty spine, through tracks of mystery from my lambing days.
Down I went on the summer air, unrolling years the other way, with careless feet I chased the scent of carefree days. Down, through fleets of bracken, to the fence and fringe of the loving times.
It was here I was young, this street of chapels, sherbet and paradise, where milk churns called the morning light and washing fanned the Hollyhocks high. This street that melted into dell and copse, framed in quilted farms that snuggled in the warm.
And I returned on this sudden summer, to the classroom days; the pigtail pulls on gym slip girls, with secret notes and sweetheart shy.
Blackboard and inkwell melted away to daring climbs on galleon trees, my scene to chance the game of youth. Captain I stood, in the rigging of heaven, painting pictures with clouds, then wiped them out suddenly.
Then down to the sea, cascading sea, that I ran from and teased. Thunder roar of shingle charge, with seagulls plenty, hovering; collector of things.
And the brave pirate dreams on ship shaped rocks, with show-off swims in shallow pools.
Oh, laughing falls on seaweed beds, then a calm clear horizon to count ships upon, curving back to where I stood, where mermaids must have been.
It was here I was young, when summer called me on, to jam jar catch by rivers edge, with sideshow peeps of spiders web, and bass voiced frogs on duckweed thrones.
It was all paradise, mountain slides and home made kites. The running wild in trespass fields, with farmers stick to chase me home.
And I returned on this sudden summer, to the sun setting run, on leaf filled tread in chestnut time, in woodland hue and shadows deep, through jig-saw paths to secret den.
But the sun calls me on to the west side hill, weaving the mystical tracks of my lambing days, leapfrogging back on season’s rusty spine, when I returned on this sudden summer.