In amongst the coming autumnal shades

The blackberries are gleaming in their purple black glaze

As little kids we went off to pick this autumnal fruit

Not for our mothers jam making ambitions

But for the rare pennies we could earn from the lady down the street

We didn’t have pocket money so these coins were like manna from heaven

We toiled in the heat of the early autumn sun

I’m sure that none of us were older than seven

We walked for miles and by mid-afternoon our little bodies were done

We took our harvest and exchanged it for coopers

Then faced a long walk up the hill to tell mum what we had done

We exaggerated tales of brambles and gorse

Our mothers listened intently and praised us of course

Our parents were impressed by the coppers in our purse

Not so by the blackberry stained urchins telling tales of heroic deeds

A little gang of kids with no fear of paedophiles

Learning valuable life skills

We fought with one another but learned how to forgive

We didn’t bear our grudges we knew we were better as a group

Average age of five and working in unison for our greater good