On the Lam

‘I’m going away today,’ he said,

‘I’m going away for good!’

We looked at his suitcase, neatly packed,

‘We don’t really think you should!’

 

‘It doesn’t matter a fig to me

Whatever you want me to,

I said that I’m going away, I did,

And that’s what I’m going to do.’

 

The wife looked beat, admitted defeat,

And stalked back into the house,

While I sat down on the garden wall

And stomped on the odd wood louse.

 

‘So where do you think you’ll spend the night

When it comes to the end of the day,

When the Moon comes up and the lights go out

And the Wolves begin to bay?’

 

He sulked, ‘I’ll be on a pirate ship,

With Long John What’s-is-name,

I’ll sit right up in the Crows Nest

Spotting the ships on the Spanish Main.’

 

‘But what if a cannonball takes your leg

And chops it off at the knee,

They’ve got no doctors on pirate ships

Out in that terrible sea.’

 

‘Well, maybe I won’t,’ he faltered,

Maybe I’ll go to the Hemlock Inn,

And sup on the stuff that pirates sup

And get me a mug of gin!’

 

‘I think it’s rum that you’re thinking of,

And that’s some terrible stuff,

It causes your head to twirl and spin

‘Til your ears come falling off.’

 

‘I’ll ride on a double-decker bus,

I’ll do what I want to do,

Nothing you say will change my mind

I'm not going to live with you!’

 

‘That’s sad, I’ll just have to eat them all,

Those humbugs up in the jar,

And the fairy cakes that your mother makes

While I’m looking up at the stars.’

 

‘That’s it, I’m going away,’ he said,

‘I’m taking off on the Lam.’

‘Be careful the police don’t pick you up,

They turn little boys to jam!’

 

He headed off to the first Lamp Post,

Then stopped, and swivelled to see,

If I was following with my eyes,

But I’d turned my gaze to a tree.

 

He took another few faltering steps,

Then turned and wandered back home,

‘I thought I’d stay for the fairy cakes,

I’m not quite ready to roam.’

 

The dog came out and he bounded up

And they played around on the lawn,

I called out, ‘Mother, the pirate’s back,

His ship was lost in a storm!’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Patricia B. Hepler]

Reminds me of the day my youngest son decided to run away - he placed a sandwich in a paper bag, tossed in a few toys and walked down our long driveway. He sat there, watching the world go by until he decided to return home on his own. I know what he had done - I had watched his every step with tears in my eyes for I knew my son would truly leave home on a future, far away day....
Thank you for returning this memory to my heart.
pat

[Ravyne Hawke]

Such a lovely poem.. a reminder of when my oldest sister tried to run away. Lovely memories you have restored to me.

[Enid Blake]

Ha Ha - haven't we all been here?!
So easily swayed by a fairy cake, those were the days :)

[Pure Hope]

This is a wonderful piece! I love it! You write so well for youngsters. (I see you don't take read requests, if you would just look at this anxious girl's last piece, only, maybe when you have time. I would be greatly appreciative)

[Richard Man]

On Thursday,when I was a little lad of maybe seven or eight,
I had two very good friends, one called Phil and the other Nick
While at play we built a raft, down in the dell, made from a tired old gate.
A plan to floatl to France, on Sunday. Shhh be quiet and quick.

But on the day, quite early, while the rest were fast asleep in bed
Phil liked his dream so he couldn't awake.Whilst Nick hesitated on the stair.
My case was packed with marmite, uncooked chestnuts and some bread,
Avec" Le Premiere Cours de Français": Outside, "Oh no I haven't brushed my hair".



This was true but this all happened more than half a century ago.
Your poem brought it all back to me. Thanks

[Mary]

David, this is absolutely precious! will share this with grandchildren if and when.

[Tate Morgan]

I loved this it so reminds me of every little boy I ever knew .A pocket full of dreams and a pocket knife too. Then all he needs is a sandwich his lonesome critter dog and a couple pennies for candy and a pocket to carry the frog.

[Richard Man]

Whatever side of the pond you're from, it's all the same. Yes, as a boy it was the rite of passage, in your pocket, a pen knife, a piece of string and a boiled sweet (half unwrapped)... holding a jam jar for newts. You couldn't go out without them.

[Tarry Franck]

Very entertaining - great job - kept me wanting more :)

[John Stussy]

Entertaining poem you've got here sir, I enjoyed reading the banter in the piece between mother and son, and the literary allusions you made within. I'm glad Tate Morgan introduced me to your work, your words are some of the best I've read.

[David Scott]

How many times I ran away... Thank you for this little time machine David!
Enjoyed it very much!