We once rolled  like children down a slope
We stopped the car to climb the grassy bank
As if we were reliving some lost hope

Ecstasy  is way  beyond my scope
My mind is always veering to the  blanks
We once rolled   our  children down a slope

We laughed and laughed  till our ribs nearly broke
The grass was wet  and soon so were our flanks
As if we were reviving some lost joke

Back to childhood then  we grew  and wrote
Mainly  to our others to give thanks
We once rolled  joy’s children down a slope

From a bridge, we dropped the paper boats
The Lea is pretty  ghastly, never  punk
In the eighties  Ted Hughes  told a  joke

Crow or wolf or magpie, what a hunk
Waiting for a vision, hit, distinct
We  sold books in moonshine  to the Pope
Feeling wild, enchanted   by new hope