Tottering 4 by 4-wards, prep-school laddie
On tiptoe to be hand-in-hand with daddy
Lilliput blazer halfway down his thigh
And bulging over the V-neck, a stripy tie:
The uniform’s sophisticate intent
Undone by his sheer bewilderment.
‘He should be building towers, chasing beetles, running wild,
Instead we put such fetters on a child.’
Yes, I was awash with thrills of rage:
‘O spring him from this prep-school cage!’
The traffic, it’s true, drowned my feeble warning,
But by God I felt like William Blake that morning.