look! is that the loving cup?

look! is that the loving cup?

last lime leeched the village mortar;

the child crosses the boundary road

onto the scales of adulthood; asking

‘will i be found wanting?’ 
for, the door ajar, and with his pals, 
he is peering in disbelief;

the songs were true!

‘there is an uplands here’

above the dark times, 
the chains of a childhood penury;

the tears have crystallised into

a shine that dazzles any attempt to 

look into the distance, (or black back) 
and all that matters is that 
the door stays ajar 

for just a wee while longer 
in case we need to come back home 
for tea and cakes, just one more time.