Poetry | Enid Blyton - Running with Joy


Enid Blyton - Running with Joy

Enid Blyton was my childhood companion
much to the despair of my five brothers who
daily shook their heads at the thrall she
held over me.
It did not matter how they told me she did 
not care for black people and
if we ever met she would likely not even shake
my hand, I still boarded with the Naughtiest
Girl in the School, adventured with the Famous 
Five and hid on Puffin Island before running off
to tightrope walk in Mr Galliano's Circus.

Aged eight,
I turned over the Five Find-Outers and found out
it was available for sale in South Africa and 
ran with joy to tell my brothers they were wrong -
for if Enid did not care for black people then surely
she would not care for her books to be sold in
Aha! I had solved that little mystery!

My brothers laughed and said,
Do you not know that South Africa is the
country where black people are treated
worst of all? And realising,
I could not win this argument, I 
decided to keep my love of Blyton to myself
and alone I climbed the Faraway Tree and discovered
new lands in the Wishing Chair.

Later, when I learned her books with
unsavoury titles, and even more unsavoury tales,
had been banned by my local library,
I packed Blyton away with other
childhood toys.

And later still when 
I found out she had died before I was born, I
shed a tear for my childhood companion because
we could never have shaken hands anyway. 
But I carried this loss alone, and ran
out to the playground to laugh and play with friends.




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