The Leaving Of Peter Pan


Gone, it seems forever,
rabbits, mice and all,
their dignity is stolen,
lost innocence withdrawn.
Children once squealed,
their delight within a circle,
his circle of rabbits and mice.
Metal once dressed in grace,
lies now a cemented plinth,
of no remains, he is gone,
wizened away it seems,
far from his sparkling star,
far from the waiting children.



He stood bronze and bold,
small birds perched on head,
rusty, strong and dignified,
yet they took him far away.
Wise owls stared upon high,
they saw it happen at night,
torn away by three men,
blackbirds watched, helpless,
as men hacked at his feet,
blinded small rabbits,
stood on the mice,
and took poor Peter away.

As dawn’s light fell there,
sun’s rays broke through,
just there in silence below,
glistening and pure, lying
upon a broken empty plinth,
lay Peter’s purest of tears,
the liquid trail of his pain.


By Clive Griffiths