Saturday, 8 March 2014

A kite for his birthday

Home was in Brighton

We lived close to the racecourse

Son had his birthday


It was a fine day

Back in March of ‘sixtyfive

Boy proud of his gift


Family of four

Rugged up against the east wind

Set off to fly kite


Sea billowed southward

Tip to the north attracted gulls

The piers were westward


Kite was soon soaring

And son now had the controls

Kite called out “free me”


Son did as was asked

Kite laughed, set off waving tail

On an adventure


I ran with son in pursuit

Mother wrapped her scarf round neck

Baby closed her eyes


The wind dropped sadly

Kite fell and snagged on a fence

But baby slept on


  1. I like the idea of freeing the kite, even though it means it will never come home.

  2. Kite flying, so much fun; wait till baby grows up

    much love...

  3. What a scene..I can picture Brighton..the white buildings a perfect backdrop for the red kite..the excitement and disappointment. Striking imagery and colours..poor boy..