Damien and Philip, a lovable pair,
But always in mischief no matter where.
Still in the toddler stage, prone to mishaps,
For ever in trouble, but dear little chaps.
They take off their clothes, and then in the nude,
Run up ‘The Close,’ by Jane pursued.
They play in the garden, and tread down the flowers,
Stay out in the rain, and get drenched by the showers.
They play in the garage, how they love oil and grease,
Oh when they’re together, for Jane’s there’s no peace.
They climb up the tree, reach only half way,
We tremble to look, as there they sway.
Then somehow they clamber, safe to the ground,
Clothing all torn, but they’re safe and sound.
They love to play at soldiers, and are so enthusiastic,
They smash the kitchen window, for Jane results are drastic.
They play in the drive, and run after the ball,
On to the road and care not at all.
That passing cars must swerve and brake,
And Jane gets a shock and another headache.
They play on the ‘field’ by the ‘Cul-de- Sac,’
What sights they are when they get back.
Covered in mud, scratched, bruised and sore,
Jane has forbidden the ‘field’ any more.
But the ‘field’ is a Paradise Playground,
Attracting all children around,
So if Damien and Philip are missing,
On the ‘field’ they’re sure to be found.
Schoolboys now, and self important,
How they both have grown,
Still good friends, still venturesome,
Still to mishaps prone.
Damien, senior by a year, knows no fear or dread,
Philip follows willingly, where angels fear to tread.
By the flooded pond they’re seen to play,
Their photos in the paper,
With warning of the danger, of such a silly caper.
Damien now has got a dog, they call him Duke, he’s handsome,
Philip loves to share him, they make a happy threesome.
Still in scrapes and out of them,
And time is passing on,
They’re growing up, their paths diverge,
Their younger childhood gone.
For different schools they now attend,
But still they’re best of friends,
Spending time together, when occasion lends.
What does the future hold for them,
As adult life advances,
A world to fight and conquer,
Disappointments? Joys? – Romances?,
But, what’er the outcome,
Childhood memories will remain,
The links they forged together,
Clamped upon life’s chain.
Copyright Doris Darbyshire