May 05, 2022
Today I attempt to revisit a foyer from my youth,
one in which I was prone to succumb to the lure of
a packet of cherry lips despite the inevitable and stern
admonishment of my mother. Unable to diminish the sheen
of these confections, I perused the shelf. Now, the word ‘bongo’
will infer which drink I purchased before entering the dream
and then the craze of loudspeakers would shake the velvet
curtains ready to foist an obligatory short in our way.
To a 9 year old this was like giving you toast for breakfast
when you wanted sugared pancakes with a pinch of lemon.
The feature begins, our hero emerges from the sea, his beret
still perfectly balanced as the water cascades down his chest.
Poem 28: #NaPoWriMo 2022
(Wordle, Quordle & Octordle results from 28th April)