Here's a piece of shameless nostalgia wrapped up in a Sci Fi poem.
THE SPACECRAFT
The spacecraft, when it landed in the street,
the first of what appeared to be a fleet,
seemed friendly so we all came out to see
what would emerge and what that thing might be.
When the hatch opened we were much amazed,
so much so that we stood stock-still and gazed
in speechless awe at the enfolding scene:
out stepped the children that we once had been.
Down a broad ramp, a group of children came.
I saw Tim, Neil and Brenda Whatshername,
then Ken, the lad who owned the Scottie dog,
and Marjorie, who gave me my first snog.
Out came Jack Burns and Harry, from the farm,
with Dorothy, that girl who broke her arm
by falling from a tree on holiday
and Dominic, with whom we’d never play.
They formed a group, each facing us and then
I saw myself, a lad of nine or ten,
and felt them slip away, those sixty years,
then wondered at my unexpected tears.
The spacecraft stood like an immense school bus
as they emerged, those children that were us.
For verse of a different kind, why not visit: https://www.facebook.com/richard.fleming.92102564/
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