I see a giraffe, wearing a tie
Also a hat, with a monocled eye
And clocks all around it, at various times
Mostly ten to five, for reasons sublime

It hang on a wall, by a small table
As i quaffed more cider, of which i was able
As music echoed around the bar
As i awaited my chariot, to take me afar

I noticed the walls, were a lush dark bluish green
A stage by the door, on which one day, i may be seen
And curiously quirky lights, hanging from the walls
As i awaited my carriage, with its klaxon calls

So i sit here still waiting, with my third half cider
And think of a spider, that wriggled inside her
As other curiosities of quirkiness, enter my head
As my imagination wanders, so easily fed

Yet food for thought, does not fill the belly
My head is not entertained, by watching the telly
Home spun yarns meanwhile, and fairy lore
Teases, and tantalises, like never before

by Jemia