The games we played as children
Were determined by the sun
With washing line and bat and ball
We would skip and jump and run.
Summer was for team games
Rounders was the best
Autumn was for skipping
The highest number was our quest

Winter was for gliding
On the schoolyard icy slide
Until the teacher caught us
To end our perilous ride.

But springtime was the best of all
Rollerskating in the street
Riding your bike to join your friends
The brakes were simply your feet.

Picnics in the nearby Park
Me and Julie on the swings
Digging the mud for tadpoles
Flying kites with gaudy strings.

Tennis played with wooden racquets
Plastic hoola hoops and jacks
Old grey donkeys plodding on the beach
Laughing children on their backs.

Picking bluebells, making daisy chains
Spring sunshine in the air
Off to Blackpool for the day
Raining? We don't care.

In Spring the evening twilight
Casts a golden hue
We sit outside our kitchen door
Mum and me and you.

So at the end of these glorious days
We're left to smile and wonder
Our future now is in God's hands
Next Spring we'll be Down Under.