Footie, tennis, cricket, whatever the game,
Balls come bouncing unseen from great heights.
Little girls learning to ride a bike there and back.
Wearing her hat more used to a saddle and tack.

Strong willed adventurers, grazed at the knee,
Scorned by parents, their parents off to tea.
Climbing the highest frame warriors brave of heart,
When they start coming down, he fearlessness departs.

The glass roofed café, filled with mothers, wasps and bees,
Just two slices of bread, tuna and coffee, three pound fifty p!
The old couple sedately walking with sticks stop to say,
Do you remember these fields covered with hay.

Mobile phones ring with a dread of work,
Flying Frisbees make energetic dogs go berserk.
Reluctant out of shape tennis playing dads,
Beaten by daughters heavy backhand smash.

New looking building a pool and a crèche,
Out of place against old rusty fence.
An escaped balloon runs to the eiderdown sky,
How soon the laughter turns to tears in the eye.

But it all vanishes when it turns dark,
And leave all alone and proud in the park.