Soon, very soon, I’ll be leaving;

And now I wish I’d visited you more

So you could tell me stories of when you

Were a girl.

How you wished the factory where you worked;

Had burnt down in the night.

How you had to share a bed with your

Four sisters.

When you played rounder’s, in Platt Fields park;

And missed the last bus home.

Soon, very soon, I’ll be leaving: And

When I return, you might not be here

Please, please - tell me some more stories.

Belinda Johnston