1966 on Tunbridge Wells Common
1966The sun hung low over the Common,
turning the fairground dust to gold,
and the penny‑roll boys lined up grinning,
all swagger, Brylcreem, and borrowed courage.
Bumper cars cracked like thunder,
sparks flying in the warm July air,
while rattling speakers fought the wind,
spitting out guitar twang from The Shadows,
thin, tinny, and absolutely perfect.
Girls in sexy mini skirts drifted past
like colour postcards come to life
laughing, daring, knowing exactly
how much attention they were stealing.
I tried to shoot the bottles straight,
but my aim went wandering
the moment she smiled at me
sideways, sexy, sunlit,
“yes, I saw you looking” smile.
Candy floss stuck to my fingers,
and she let me wipe it on her sleeve,
rolling her eyes, pretending to mind,
but staying close enough
that our hands brushed now and then.
The Big Dipper roared overhead,
a wooden heartbeat shaking the ground,
and the two of us slipped away
from the noise and neon,
hand in hand,
as if it had always been that way.
Down the sandy path toward Toad Rock,
her mini skirt catching the evening breeze,
the fair fading behind us
into a warm, humming memory
just the two of us walking,
bare ankles in the sand,
the whole world suddenly simple
and wonderfully small
My Big Dipper took a ride
a wooden heartbeat shaking the ground,
her mini skirt did the trick
up and down up and down.
Poetry by JohnJohn
Read 12 times
Written on 2026-03-21 at 09:45
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William Hughes |
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