When I was in my seventh year of heaven

white china horses galloped on the path,

moss was in the meadow,

goldfish flicked tails deep in the pond.

Herder to my lead sheep

I hid beneath the lilac tree

crushed blackcurrant buds,

made playgrounds for worms.

I discovered that lead has a smell

and worms can never play.

But I liked worms

And rescued them from puddles

on wet days.