soapy (Remove filter)
Bubbles
they were innocent at school, bubbles
you got the tin and wand and blew
wet globules flew in the playground
we cheered at the squadrons we grew
they hit you in the face but harmless
we ran madly trailing clouds of glory
each bubble with its personal rainbow
to embroider some memory or story
trouble was that strong soapy smell
a reminder of the pain of bath nigh...
Wednesday 16th December 2020 10:59 am
Recent Comments
Rose Casserley on Adopt
5 hours ago
Stephen Atkinson on The Fields Of Avalon
5 hours ago
Rose Casserley on Not sailing but almost sinking!
5 hours ago
Stephen Atkinson on A small kindly heart
5 hours ago
Stephen Atkinson on Not sailing but almost sinking!
5 hours ago
Stephen Atkinson on The Eternal Flame
6 hours ago
Stephen Atkinson on Waking moments
6 hours ago
Stephen Atkinson on A Special Place For Us
6 hours ago
rob1967able on Repeat once.
8 hours ago
Holden Moncrieff on In memoriam...
9 hours ago