The Retired Bloke

Playing on my bogie

Fun for me

When I was young

Was playing on a bogie

A fruit box, plank

A piece of rope

And four wheels from a pram

We took it in turns

To be the driver

With a friend 

To do the pushing

Best thing 

Was when we found a hill

That feeling of elation

Speeding  perilously

Dangerously, irresponsibly

Close to a tree 

Now these things

Weren’t the most robust

Often falling apart

Wheels buckled

Bits fell off

The steering locked 

In left turn

But we cherished 

Our bogies

Riding with pride

Terrorising old ladies

On pavements, parks

And down tenfoots

Pretending 

we were Graham Hill

There were no PlayStations 

In those days

Just home made entertainment

This was the time 

When the youth was free

When the best thing in life

Was playing on my bogie.