False Security Poem by Gert Strydom

I remember the party as small children we had
where my brother and I were like chinamen clad
playing ring a ring a rosy with boys and girls
and how in long dresses they made many twirls

how Melanie did play hopscotch with me
and afterwards in the hillocks we roamed free,
were cops and robbers, cowboys and crooks
played hideaway in the crannies and nooks

but at twilight it was time to go
and back to home my brother walked quite slowly
until we went through the little reed covered spring
and with the wind whispering it got exciting

when he jelled in alarm as I bolted off to home
as if a ghost did there ominously roam.