Kingillie was a miniature empire.
It had a mountain with hollows that
I knew precisely. It had lawns that
were fields, each shape - rectangles,
others cut like to make a waistcoat -
as clear to me now as they were then.
Then, I fitted under beds that swallowed
me into a heaven with dust that dropped
down from the canvas above.
The blue lino of the playroom was a
giant rally circuit; the join in the middle
of the floor a vital obstacle.
The book cupboard's rich stink smothered
me in comfort, but its contents hinted
at possibilities.
(Edinburgh,13/8/12)
nice written dear friend. I love the nostalgic feeling in your poem.you have described Kingillie in a poetical way. I love this poem. tnx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh, would the halcyon days of childhood last forever. A good poem hugh in style and content Isam Hussain