I wrote this over fifty years ago, when I was under attack equally from acne and emotions and hadn’t yet decided whether I was going to be Sir Galahad or Don Juan. (Well, no-one sets out aspiring to be average do they?)
Anyway, despite it’s faults…..
Small boy running with a black and white dog
Down across the meadow, through the woods, to the bog
Small boy throws sticks, lights a fire, builds a dam
Dog runs around to find where the rabbits ran
Always out together in wind and rain and snow
Where small boy is, then dog has to go
Boadicea's Chariot 