Mrs Prior, whose father bought the vicarage
during the reorganization of the sea
with the investmnts in Malaya, he managed to save
before the flag went down.
....
Mrs Prior, kept a shotgun by her bed
and mantaps amid the bamboo
where we went for spears. Her son
was similarly odd, wore check suits
of broadest cut, and drove a sports car
with the hood down, in all weathers.
....
I would see her by the schoolgates of course.
But who really pays attention to someone else's mother
when fighting for attention from our own.
With her black eyes and hair, she could have been
a gypsy, or Spaniard, but they said Italian -
but no one really is - beyond the television: of course.
In the hip height world of boys, she was just -
Luke's mum - who held in sway the nod or nay
to all pleading for an hour's play, after school.
....
Parties are measured in jelly and cake
and the number of sausage rolls required
to partake of the afters.
......
Each morning saw the village empty of men and cars
and enter a lull filed with birdsong. Until around ten,
Children were hustled from the settee, toast crumbs
swept from legs, and pushed out to play - and make friends.
It was all rather heraldic - the Raleigh rampant crossed
with conkers and acorns, and Clarke's shoes in clover.
.....
Without strong feeling we declared ourselves best friends
by the book-slat of paperbacks, held in place by wire -
which meant I got an invite to the party.
....
Parties are for dad's to shine.
With cricket bat in hand they defy diving boys
to get them out. Or lose in trees gliders
when demonstrating how to throw like a man.
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