Our
Brush with Fame
Mum is that
Kevin McCloud standing there
by the washing line in his sneakers
and a pale blue suit speaking
into thin air
we peered
our firm noses squeaking on the glass
and I knocked the kitchen vase over
which I think that Kevin heard
because he turned his head
he said you
you
there
we went outside
and greeted the master
of the grand design us
looking at our ramshackle shed
with fear hoping
we would not
be made to build some kind of
monument where the L-shape porch
is now
he was aglow
the bright lights
of his telly world
stung my face
a thousand bees
of power presence
giant feet that trod our flowers down
to mush the cameras trailing leads
a pull too much
against the frail sunshine of gazania
and phlox
we gave him back his tennis ball
we waved
with much relief
goodbye
*apologies for posting the draft with our home nickname for Kev in it! Ouch
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