Sunday Childhood. Poem by Michael Cochrane

Fields of wild flowers in summer bloom, turquoise skies and trees of oak and beech which I fought the imagined enemy's from, I was Geronimo fighting off the 7th calvary, flying off arrows in all directions. That afternoon I was a commando in my dugout hole with a midden bin lid to hide in winning World War 2 with my pals George and James, when I got home I had my supper and a bath and I was Michael again with homework to do for Monday morning.
Michael Cochrane ©