When I was young
and the sea was stretched to full tide –
the waves dimpled and sang,
stars spattered like sparklers,
wind gusted, pushing and pulling,
falling over itself to trip me whilst running.
Life hung like a moving painting.

And the garden was complete
with jungle flowers found
by the first-time explorer.

Hill was mountain.
Puddle was lake.
Stone was boulder.
Grass was forest.

I was the centre of my universe
conducting creation with a shiny wand,
laughing at the freshness of a world
whose skin was thin,
whose flesh revealed,
multi-dimensional –
sharper in focus than any photograph.

My eyes clicked the shutter unceasingly.
Each image held pristine and positive.
Caught to be kept mounted in the mind –
to be opened when needed.

 © Vivien Steels
(First published in POETRY NOTTINGHAM Vol 38 No: 2 - Summer 1984)

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