On Sillot hill you'll find a wood there.
Where as a young boy I played without care.
We'd make spears, bows and arrows for fun
and madly through the trees we'd run.
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Hi mark. Initially by the title I wondered if this was a war piece but no it was the opposite. A real swallows and amazon write of muddied faces practicing the art of friends play construction joy tears mathematics sport (well everything that play encourages and teaches. My sillcot hill was (The brickfields) where we had miles of fields pig farms, bunkers and a pond with an island worth fighting a boy for the only pallet to row to the middle in, all by a railway track with broken wire fences yay! Us girls 4 of us were a handful lol. Thanks for my memory lane meander
Loved this one Mark brough back a lot of great childhood memories.
What a beautiful way to capture the nostalgia of childhood. I love the description here, and the words flow very gracefully. A joy to read!
Simple childhood memories are often the best and a great source of sanctuary and inspiration. A great write.