Highgate Hopeful
As we crested the brow of the ultimate hill
I ran into Madge and her fat budgie, Bill,
"Lor' lumme," I wheezed,"'E's not 'arf lookin' ill."
But Bill was as sanguine as winter is long
His tail was robust and his sternum was strong
" 'E's 'ealthy", Madge sighed, "but 'e doesn't 'arf pong"
The vista before us was swathed in a fog
We sat arm in arm on the side of a log
'Til Bill said to Madge he was "Off t'the bog"
"No time like t' present" he trilled as he went
Leaving no spoor on the baking cement
I'll give you this ring if you'll give me a buck
"No such luck," she replied, and that's what she meant.
That's what she meant when she said, "No such luck".
It's now twenty years since we met on that hill
Madge and her budgie are sitting there still
The ultimate way to express their free will
They take tea at four and tennis at six,
(They've built a small sauna from lichen and sticks)
And make a small living by polishing bricks
Their live is a whirl in the midst of the war,
Their door is ajar and their jar is a door
They've no need for answers, they know what life's for
Contributors: | TG, Stacy, Roland, P, Bop. |
Poem finished: | 10th September 1997. |