DAY DREAMS

 

"I'm going to be Poet Laureate one day, Darling!"
"I am sure your are, dear," she said,
Needles clicking furiously,
Glazed eyes, curiously
Fixed on Billy from 'Neighbours,'
Doing forty lengths up and down the pool,
Muscles rippling, parting the water,
Strong limbs majestically glistening,
And Carl his dishy father,
Who always makes her drool,
Cheering the boy on:
"I'm going to be Poet Laureate one day, Darling!"
But she's lost in knitting patterns,
Lost in tangled wool,
Lost in the soapbox' song,
And she isn't listening:

So he drained his glass and went to bed.

 

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