The House with Turrets
She lived in a house with turrets,on the top floor,
bird like and dressed in black,
older than anyone I had ever seen
yet full of spirit.
We ran away, my father and I
lived in a small village
just outside of Dinard
where wild strawberries grew
and I dreamt about
making an ant farm
with the flying ants.
I travelled to school
with a bus load of other children,
too far to cycle
and my best friend and I
held hands
and then I left
We visited the house with turrets,
I ate these little cakes
called wonders in the kitchen
and didn't see the old lady
dressed in black,
I just saw rainbows in oily puddles
and moaned about rubber boots
that brought up blisters
became allergic to strawberries
and went to boarding school
That was the year I was 6
and I never did make an ant farm
or run away to the circus
of climb the old pines
to collect the cones
that burned on a fire
on someones Christmas pyre,
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2015-08-12 at 20:01
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