That Whitsun when I walked

For what seemed like miles,

In holy vestments, crew cut fresh,

New shoe blisters marking my passion

 

Cubs, Brownies, Scouts and Guides

And scrubbed up angels,

All that life dirt swilled away

Just for one day you see my babies as God intended

 

We walked the witness passed packed pubs,

Our fresh from the shops new clothes

Not yet contaminated by the sweat and dirt because

Jesus suffers little children who smell of Johnson’s Talc and brylcream

 

Assembled in infirmary tennis courts

All disinfectant clean,

And the frightening smell of medical matters and mortality

Mixed with over stewed vegetables and meat pie

 

We sang familiar hymns so loud with brass and drum

To wake up God and remind him that we’re still hear,

In the shit, looking upwards

And those lived on the hill attend too, this order kept

 

Old men with medals wearing berets

Sang those words of peace and love,

Buried their embarrassed tearful heads to the floor

As our performing priest prayed for us to maintain our insanity

 

Mums and dads just for one day declared their love with clumsy embrace,

Cheeks pecked in full sight of all,

Family photos an opportunity to gently squeeze that sex,

Lift that youthful promise briefly to the foreground again

 

Mums preened themselves, remembering their seductive glory

When they gave up to the grunts of love

As those calloused hands and dirty finger nails

Pushed upwards beyond the laughing line

 

Their hair set in frozen pose, new stockings and two piece ,

With spittle and hanky at hand

To polish away any traces of our disease,

And that glorious smell of chemist’s perfume and Park Drive

 

We could be proud of ourselves,

Once again replicated, this miracle

That carried us through the heat of another summer

That would wear down the painful crispness of my new collar

 

Then home to sacrificial beef with all the trimmings,

Apple pie, Birds custard, orange squash and two ounces of chewing nuts,

Exhausted, blissful, dizzy,

That Whitsun when I walked.