When outswept arms were fighter planes
     And rulers flashing swords,
When cricket bats were tommy guns
     And ties garroting cords;

When wooden crates were rocket-ships
     And dustbin lids were shields,
When cans and string were telephones
     And back streets battlefields;

When benches in the park were tanks
     And tablecloths were tents,
When bamboo canes were Blackfoot bows
     And grown-ups made no sense;

When fallen trees were pirate ships
     And matches stolen toys,
We wished that we were full grown men —
     Who now wish we were boys.