Evil-minionby Ethel Twigg20 Apr 2015

Days like these
when we are young and free
cycling dozens of miles
to the Quantock hills
arriving in the dark
one of the thrills
animal noises
startling the less brave
soft nuzzle of a wild horse
sniffing for hidden pleasures
against the shelter we made
pine shaving kindling
with something potent
our fire bursts into life
with a whoosh
and some singed eyebrows
a funny look
cooking strange concoctions
in mess tins
orange powder, beef stew
and runny powdered mash
tastes fine
if you're hungry enough
those were the days
when we were young and free
and simple pleasures
left their mark on us.