Naughty Boys Poem by Jim Young

As the vortex of the boys of morning,
Wrinkle grit in the eyes of dawn,
Impish smiles smirk slowly back
From the face of a fateful plan.
Ducking the jabs of retribution,
Daring preens wild wings on heels,
Away they go, as only they know how,
Flying down the boy's own fields.

Bursting geysers high, nailed in the thigh, of
Lead pipes laid to hand, or
Pancake pennies under express trains
That ears to the hammering line demand.
Astride slingshots that lamplights out
Careering in dereliction daring.
With frisson set in widening eyes
Wild arcs of rainbow flaring.

Adventure tested the boys,
Grazed dry with blood and tears,
Plod played-out home for supper.
The paper chase has spun them down,
And they are done, as their day is done,
But what have you done?
You naughty, naughty, boys!
No mind now cariad, my bachgen bach,
Cwtch you down, cwtch you down.