Little haiku on a stick-it for your enjoyment. 🙂
So I have finally got around to delivering poems to the central line! I stopped to take photos in Tottenham Court Road and Notting Hill Gate, both very interesting locations.
My thoughts recently have been on our expectations of children and the things we tell them when they are very young, the most obvious of these stories being Father Christmas and the Tooth Fairy. Now, for me, Father Christmas was always kind of obvious; I mean, one guy travelling by flying sled, delivering presents to all the children in the world in one night? I mean, time zones do help this theory, but even at five years old, I was fairly certain that anybody else would be arrested for climbing down people’s chimneys at night and eating their mince pies, and the sheer physics of flying reindeer just boggles the mind. So I was unsurprised when it turned out that Father Christmas was, in fact, whichever one of my parents had consumed the least brandy on that particular Christmas Eve.
The tooth fairy, however, I was prepared to believe in whole heartedly. And my parents really went the extra mile with our tooth fairies. I have two sisters and a brother and we had a fairy EACH! Mine was called Swiftwing. Or Silverwing. Or something of that ilk. She went to the tooth fairy academy and whenever I lost a tooth, I would wake in the morning to find a pound coin, a little trail of glitter, and a tiny letter that could fit in my palm. I would read all about my tooth fairies latest adventures and how glad she had been to collect my tooth. So when my over investigative sister marched into my room one morning and announced the tooth fairy was a lie, I was mortified. But my sister was not done. Solemnly standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips, she said, “you want proof? Look!” and brandished the bottle of glitter my parents had accidentally left in the bathroom. Needless to say, I was devastated. I felt less like my fairy was not real and more like she had been brutally pulled to bits before my very eyes.
But it is interesting how children have such a capacity to believe in the remarkable without question. Often, they do not want truth, because the fantasies are so much more interesting. And the poem I delivered today, ‘When You Have Children’ focuses on these stories and the kind of things we try to inspire our children with. I hope you enjoy the pictures and, if anyone found the poem, I hope you enjoyed that too.