HOSE WERE THE DAYS!

The unseasonably warm weather, more June-like than April, puts me in mind of summer days in the garden at home in Belfast long ago and the fun we had when father watered the flower-beds. 

HOSEPIPE

We scattered, screaming, laughing too,
not really wanting to escape
the chill, refreshing water spray,
like dazzling rain, the hosepipe threw.
My brother giggled like an ape:
in bathing togs, we danced away,
then, panting, watched the water spew.
With Father, we would laugh and jape
while summer days drifted away
and we, like watered lupins, grew.