The hero flies!
As tasks lay before me in growing mounds.
I close my eyes and sip the last sweet taste
Of this Saturday morning lethargy.
My mind slips silently and gently back
To times when red capes made it all seem right.
No task too great, no feat to tall, I’d fly.
My hands thrust before me; adventure bound.
My cape streaming behind skinny shoulders.
White bonds underwear outside of blue shorts.
“What are you doing up on the roof Dad”?
Usually I am just in the way,
Today it’s the same and I zoom away.
My puny legs pump, my eyes wide open
Off to find a damsel who’s in distress.
“Need a hand Mum, I can carry the clothes”?
I dropped them last time onto the wet grass
So this maiden rejects the brave call.
This reverie’s broken by pounding feet
My family is home, the shopping is done.
The lawn is before me, unkempt and brown
There are hedges that stand loosely unpruned.
I long for times when red capes save the day
In the meantime, I’m glad I’m not shopping.
Poetry is my aeroplane 