Thursday, 25 July 2013

untitled for 27/7/13

you land on
dinosaur feet,
jump
and
clump
through the hall
asking if it's
"morning time"
and so the day
begins
with a tap of my head
a demand to get up
and a reason to live.

as you run
you pull a plastic orca from its slumber
in a wicker basket of concealed anarchy.

(i pray that your eagerness is
not
biodegradable
like mine.)

rushing to your place
a little chair and table
(fodder for a future car-boot sale)
you wait
for
weetabix and shreddies
and disney junior
to swirl together in the milk of
your morning,
before
moving into adventures of
knights, pirates, shark-hunters, monsters.

drawing your masterpiece
you talk and talk.
and ply my mind with:
"were computers wooden in your day?"
and
"who was the first prince?"
and challenge
misconceptions
that have been set
these forty years.

and on
you dance
and hug or
sumo-wrestle me
and
stagger me,
through my days.

stay eager and alive
searching, healthy in your mind,
whoever you become:

you make me prouder
than perfection could,
you are my son.







Monday, 8 July 2013

Wimbledon 2013


greyhound of the grass,
chasing down lost causes,
a serving, sprinting, sliding,
soft-handed survivor,
never giving up,
son of Dunblane,
making angels smile,
a British, Scottish superstar
not in it for the money,
shifting left and right, forward, back,
a human cursor chasing a ball at will,
tenacious to win,
turning round bad situations,
a championship point drama king
of the court,
with a history lesson
for children to believe in,
kindness in that smile,
making us proud:
Andy Murray.