It was a talking day. Full
of words. He ached for
a trip to a Musical because
he hadn’t asked for two hours
so now he did ask, played a game with dice,
looked at Youtube and did an ask again.
Bedtime, he laid down but, at five past one, sat
up and asked for ‘live on stage’,
flopping back down when no one came.
Later, in moon brightness, he had a pee and
noticed rain that wasn’t there before
and how it was a Tuesday.
Marmite-toast for breakfast, in between
talking about Mama Mia, theatre and asking after
Lloyd Weber. Then he asked for Showtime
with a grin – Phantom, Cats, Les Mis, Chitty,
Oliver – live on stage - Musical please!
Dad said OK but nothing new occurred
so he asked again – Oklahoma -
and, in the presence of mystery,
magic struck with a knock
on the door. A Postman
carrying tickets. A hit! Encore!
Now – he takes a breath. What’s next?