The dozy punter took a half step back,
He blinked and
scratched his ear, for abuse he could handle
And madmen on wheels
were a fear that you could see,
But crumpets and tea? Were they
spiked? And free?
He swallowed once more the dust of the road,
His shoulders collapsed in a heap;
Gocha' mate, you're a champ,
came the ragged reply;
Where's the loo?
Stumpy twisted his mouth in the hint of a smile
And ducked his
head under the tap;
The dozer was right, the day had begun,
cockatoo squarked, some light slanted in through the trees,
hissed from the kettle, the crumpets smelled warm,
And his visitor
scraped up a stool. Then just for an instant
Both lifted their gaze,
both men met in that moment, amazed.
previous | next