Lost love

We were standing in Christmas-decorated school's hall in our teams
Standing neatly in a line,
Every girl and boy,
Different paper hats,
And hands behind so you had to think up no hands' rules,
A simple Christmas game,
The wrapped sweet passed on,
Knowing
We are nearer kissing and yet so far.

We went to the pictures to see the war film,
My choice I think,
My choice to sit at the back,
My choice to lend her my Biggles books actually,
She lived in the old part of the village while we were
Rough boys part of new London overspill,
Used rough ways and not a resolute scampering girl
Coming from the Roman Catholic Church!

She was there 'til I wasn't,
Glimpsed her sitting in my Class
Until I was sent down,
Glimpsed her sitting in the playground
Until we moved,
Glimpsed her
Until she wasn't
And it was too late.

© R Frank Wilson