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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Apr 2020
Land of hope and anchors
'We'll meet again'
ah
but when will that be,
between here and eternity
which I believe is
somewhere
in Battersea
or Swansea?
We'll all be late
because
getting out of the habit of
getting up like a rabbit
and hopping along
makes us lazy.
well
they can only shoot me
or
give me the boot,
I smoke a cheroot on the
last day of forever and whatever
comes next
cannot be as bad as
what came before.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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