A gill of gin to start the day and
then I'm in the zone
a hidden flagon on the wagon
I'm on the way back home.
Sometimes I make moonshine,
fire up the still only waiting to fill
another bottle with ***** for
one more light cruise
down fuddled memory lane.
On Sunday I rest
go to church dressed in my tux,
and get
a few funny looks from the Vicar.
I keep my eyes on the time
my head in the moonshine, a
couple of hymns, prelude to
a few more sweet Pimms
and the day comes to
an end.
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 2:37 AM UTC
A gill of gin to start the day and
then I'm in the zone
a hidden flagon on the wagon
I'm on the way back home.
Sometimes I make moonshine,
fire up the still only waiting to fill
another bottle with ***** for
one more light cruise
down fuddled memory lane.
On Sunday I rest
go to church dressed in my tux,
and get
a few funny looks from the Vicar.
I keep my eyes on the time
my head in the moonshine, a
couple of hymns, prelude to
a few more sweet Pimms
and the day comes to
an end.
Request permission to use this poem