Standing on the top of Launceston Castle in Cornwall

I wave down to my kids

Who are standing at the base of the castle.

I wonder: What do they think of me?

Do they think: that's the nice man on earth?

Do they feel great waves of warmth

Or do they just think: that's just dad wandering around old ruins, 

being boring about architecture.

Perhaps they think: I hate that man,

how convenient it would be if he fell down the castle steps

And landed in a sticky pile by the outer bailey

If he fell, my friends would feel sorry for me,

I would get lots of presents,

And I'd have a new dad,

Preferably with a bit more money,

And a better sense of humour.

Whatever their thoughts, they keep them to themselves,

But stare up through the castle railings,

Wave their comics at me and smile.