Demob Daymare
After the huge build up
(Some ten hours in all)
I ventured outside
Through the back door
Down the freshly brushed ramp
Gravitating with gravy
Pot of cider (and gauche black straw)
In one twisted paw
And a roll-up burning
In the spare one left
*
The hopes of relaxation
cheered by summer breeze
Seemed attainable.
Perhaps a propitious pick!
For once
*
Neighbours play with smaller neighbours
A three-legged werewolf lumbers nimbly
The roll-up is still going strong
Flimsy on the robust air
Which carries martial voices
‘Yes, James that’s the right way
Good man, fine fellow’
After all it is some years now
Since the voice pronounce approval
It was high time to do the rounds
*
Me? The clouds came over
So I came back in
To try and remember what happened
So,
it crosses my mind,
do they