RETROSPECTIVE

I had not time to write today so I decided to regale you with on of my rather rude folksy poems...sorry in advance!


When winds howl wildly round at night


And you huddle before the fire.

Remembering the good old days,

Memory is such a liar.



You don’t remember all the times

When in the dead of night,

You had to brave the dark back yard,

If you wanted to have a shite.



You don’t recall the many times,

A hundred times or maybe more,

When you shivered in the frosty rimes,

That blew beneath the toilet door.



The times you had to whistle as

You sat on the old bog seat

Because if someone was about,

They could hear you down the street.



Remember the wad of paper

Remember the dreadful hum

And never forget the news headlines

That were smeared across your bum



So when you sit in state upon

Your comfy indoor throne

Remember the past and be thankful you have

A bog to call your own.