Summer storms through the silly season

And I am my own fashion treason.

Asleep in my hoodie and flip flops,

Cropped leggings and blue Whovian top.

At my desk the universe lights up

But a first thing first, where’s my Garfield cup?

On my phone is a little image

So my sleepy eyes start to scrimmage.

An old photo of a time and place

Where five girls are caught in an embrace.

They look up at me from yesterday

Far. Far, away from this port side bay.

Those were the days of Pimms and flowers,

Best friends, and summer showers.

Gone are those days of dancing till dawn,

Getting drunk, waking up on the lawn.

No we’re closer to the big 3-0

Alarm clocks and coffee run the show

Dancing along the trapeze of life

As friend, worker, mother, sister, wife…

The world has spun a few times or more

Since I was last knocking at your door

But no matter how far we all roam

That time, that place, will always be home.