Whim-whams and Wigwams…..
Childhood fantasy of Whim-whams and Wigwams.....
Aug 01 ● 1 min read ●
Trailing my clackity clack bumblebee
Golly in the other hand,
I follow the tall back of my Dad
down the garden path.
Full of questions,
I shadow him into his shed,
his place of escape
where a small child hides.
‘What are you making Dadda?’
It is always the same response,
nonsense for a child’s ears.
Whim-whams and wigwams
for gooses bridles,
for ducks to sit on,
to wind the sun up!
I clackity clack down the path
puzzled by bridles and bumblebees,
taste the words in my mouth
and flip them over my tongue,
like heads and tales.
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