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Reigate Juniors, late July, in nineteen sixty nine
Miss Leggett crossed the room and slowly pulled down all the blinds
as one by one the summer's morning settled into gloom
the five of us sat quietly in the television room.
Power on, wait for it warming up, and then channel select
a picture slowly forming, didn't know what to expect
grainy image, took a moment for our eyes to work it out
and see just what the world outside was now talking about.
Shimmering in UHF scan lines at six-two-five
we watched a major milestone being broadcast to us, live.
Ghostly figure, hesitant, and slow, considered pace
was out taking his morning stroll far off in outer space.
Every action analysed, each purpose predefined
environmental figures taken, soil samples mined.
No more science fiction, science fact, this vision real,
our wondering just how for that one man the scene must feel.
His colleague now with camera, the U.S flag he plants,
a speech so calm, if it was me, I'd one sixth-g a dance.
Outside at lunch in the playground we talked of how we planned
in Tranquillitatis to be where Armstrong stood and scanned.
To boldly split infinitives and bravely seek new worlds
(but since this was a 'boys own' job, we'd have to leave the girls)
Fast forward now by fifty years, the space race still not won,
the kitchen sink is blocked and all the laundry's still not done.
The body aches and creaks and groans, old age coming too soon,
but inner child looks up some nights, and still salutes the moon.

August 13th 2015, for contest 'Childhood dreams', sponsored by Silent One

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