NOW THAT I AM OLDER by Faymarie Morris


Faye’s response to the ‘Now’ Trigger. The next one is of course ‘then’.
NOW THAT I AM OLDER.
Now that I am older and my world is slowing down
And my life is mainly governed by how to get around,
I can look back to another time, when I was young
And the days were always endless and packed full of fun.
Computers weren’t invented then, mobile phones or texting.
I played for hours out of doors, no time for resting,
Until the sun was going down or tummy was rumbling.
No rain or snow or sun or blow, or mother grumbling.
Summer-time went on forever. I was never bored.
Things to see, find and do. Building dens, making swords.
Skipping up and down the lanes or fishing in the stream,
Collecting frog spawn, sticklebacks. Life was one long dream.
And even in the darkness of a long midwinter’s night
I’d still be outside with my friends, underneath the lights.
Freedom should be each child’s right, to live life to the full,
Learning how to improvise and never being dull.
But it isn’t like that any more, kids can’t be free
To play for hours and hours on end, wherever they please.
There’s danger round each corner, lurking in the shallows.
Hiding in the undergrowth. Prowling through the shadows.
We never saw it coming. When did it come to this?
Did it happen overnight or bit by little bit?
What if it was always there and parents never knew
Or chose to just ignore it, like adults sometimes do?
But this is how it always was, back then, in the day.
The many dangers I encountered, just out at play.
Like standing by the railway tracks with steam trains chugging past,
Waving at the people as they went by, in a flash.
I still grew up and lived and thrived and wanted for nought
And ate the things I shouldn’t have. Sometimes I know I fought
To try my best to understand the workings of the world
And how to grow into myself, while the cosmos unfurled.
And nature was my best friend, it helped me to survive
The miles and miles I trudged to school, when I was just five.
Birds were always singing whether skies were grey or blue
When every precious moment was filled with things to do.
By Faymarie Morris
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