Sleepover - Poem by Della Perry
One reminder was the tent in the garden for my boys;
Years back before he died, he took hours putting the steel frame skeleton together
Slipping the camouflage skin over it's rattling bones
The admired one, but a complete xxx, was staying over
To see if I could be a friend for longer than a couple of hours.
It was exciting; I wasn't sure if I could stand her snootiness for that long but I was eager to find out for she was popular.
We filled the tent with pillows, blankets, teddies; we were only eight or nine at the time; food, a torch from my room.
We laughed, we had fun, the popular one liked the naughty one.
The time come, nightfall.
Then the heavens opened their black trap door
and all hell broke loose; thunder, lightning, the rain fall was deep in the tent, blankets did the back stroke!
Sadly, it dawned on us, feet wet, the old tent from the attic was no longer waterproof.
Father made us come inside to sleep in my spider web ridden room instead
The popular one didn't seem impressed
I still spent the night with my not-so-liked friend but I still cried because without the tent for the setting it wasn't the same story that I had imagined in my head,
And I do love to make up a story.
The next time me and her were in a tent together
In her backyard
Her brother zipped us in, a cell, a jail, from the outside, no escape
With his best friend who fancied us both, he was eleven,
It was awkward, uncomfortable
We didn't hang out after that!
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