the customary 2-up-2-down

was ample habitat

for four adults and me

mam and dad and grandma

and my uncle Jim

and a radio and archaic TV

 

tiny house and living room

but quite adequate

and never limited to the child

who was odd and unusual

but imaginative

and given the freedom to run wild

 

the light bulb took precedent

we never changed it

in the six years that I enjoyed the caper

since my unplanned birth

it formed two purposes

to furnish light and hang fly paper

 

all those years with that bulb

and it was only me

that recognised all it could offer

a magical Technicolor world

available for me and

everyone apart from the scoffer

 

of all the adults in the living room

only my grandfather

offered welcomed comforting support

with his assuring smile

in that photograph frame

where he proved my greatest escort

 

never showing any disapproval

only mild amusement

a pity that he'd long since died 

he’d have understood me

he’d never have doubted

the boy who saw the other side

 

from that unassuming bulb

colourful posies

in tiny baskets would float

slowly meandering

descending leisurely

in groups or occasionally remote

 

why didn't anyone see these

breathtaking animations?

they were there night after night

never did I indicate them

but just expected

that adults had adequate eyesight

 

ultimately in desperation

one early evening

during a very conspicuous display

I caught a bouquet

to show to grandma

but annoyingly it just faded away

 

No-one ever saw the copious flora

and those faded blooms

I was never able to exhume

so heartbreaking not to be believed

that I never ever mentioned

the people I often saw in the bedroom