Our Swing

He asked if we could have a garden swing…isn’t that gorgeous!!! He asked if it could be wide enough for the two of us both to sit, swinging gently, with my head resting upon his shoulder. Isn’t he the most adorable, endearing, appealing man!

Did I have to even think about my reply? Of course it was always going to be an affirmative. But then I decided to write a little more about our swing, our romantic swing where we can sit close and talk….or just cuddle.

Our swing….our swing…don’t you know we have always shared a swing – you and I? Don’t you remember me? I was that little girl in the back of your memory, the one you clicked with at the park. You used to chase me all over the climbing frames. You would sit behind me at the top of the slide and down we would whoosh together. On the roundabout, I would cling tight laughing, while you ran along pushing so that we would spin faster. Do you recall that I was always too scared to shimmy down the fireman’s pole. You would go ahead of me and stand below holding your arms out, telling me you would catch me.

Don’t you remember how we used to play together? But our afternoons in the sunshine always ended on our swing.

I was that little girl with a wild streak. The one who always seemed to lose her shoes. You and I would go wading into the pond to find tadpoles. We would edge our way up through sycamore branches trying to touch the sky. You adored your little friend, the unpredictable playful little girl who looked up to you, because you were faster and stronger and smarter than she was. You turned trips to the park into an adventure. Together, we outwitted pirates, we whispered like secret agents, we trekked through jungles searching for hidden treasures. You were her favourite, always her favourite.

Where did the time go? Our parents and teachers ushered us into grey classrooms and we buried our noses in books. Books that taught us all the theory of living. They shaped our minds to see some kind of virtue in commerce, justice in warfare, morality in politics. We left the system and embraced our lot in life….for a time.

Then the chinks began to show, the doubts in our mind, the gradual disillusionment, because they lied to us! They made us pawns in a perverse game of oppressors and slaves – where a minority bask in luxury believing they are divinely blessed and many millions cannot sleep at night because their bellies ache with pangs of hunger.

All we could do was dream. How we longed for the days of our innocence, when we thought we could trust everyone, when the strong seemed noble and the soldier true. We sought relief from the burden of knowledge and enlightenment. We sought the romance of poetry and the comfort of true love.

There we found one another once again.

We met at our swing. We sat close beside each other. We laugh about our memories of those happy sunny afternoons that we thought would last forever. The days when life was all about playing with your best friend at the park.

Now we found one another we need each other more than ever. Our swing – it is always there, it has always been there, waiting for us to return. It’s a place we both feel safe and happy. It’s a place where nobody else in the world seems to matter. We forget time, we forget hunger, we forget all our worries.

Wherever you go now, you know I am not far away, only a heartbeat really. I am yours to hold close. I am yours to whisper sweet poems to. I am just as thrilled as you are to have found that sweet little boy from the park, the one who used to chase me. I always knew you were out there.

Now I am yours again. Only this time…we share so much more. We never understood romance when we were children. Now as adults, we try to keep our yearnings as pure as can be. When our lips meet we allow them to linger, and become lost in the moment. We sigh. Oh for those lost and lonely years when we were kept apart. So much time wasted. But we have now and we have forever ahead of us.

15 replies on “Our Swing”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s