'a wandering ancient, demented and lost'
'Twas in the winter of 2013
When the night was cold
And the wind was keen
Though the road was dug up
The hashers still came
Man, woman, dog, pup
With chips as their aim
"Two ways run from here"
Quoth the hare through his beard,
And off the pack set
Glad 'twas cold but not wet
Going North up the road
Through the frost and the cold
'Til they came upon workers
Out digging the roads
So they searched on the ground
For their floury codes
"On right!" and "petrol!"
Were the cries that they heard
Through hedgerow and thicket
Past white-painted picket
Through lanes and deep furrows
And rabbits in burrows
They passed slumbering villas
And fields meant for cricket
There was one who ran with them
With hair fine fair blonde
But she was a siren
Who oft called them wrong
And led them astray on that cold wintry night
Three times she did fox them
Though 'twas in error not spite
Then there on the ground lay an S and an L
So off went the shorts
And the longs too, pell-mell
The longs into land owned by RSPB
Where they came 'pon a sign that read 'Dangerous Tree'
Oh what lay ahead? Could it be Whomping Willow?
Some feared a possessed totem pole
But the axeman had laboured, the trunk lay in pieces,
There was nought that could threaten a soul
On on they did canter
With much chat and banter
'Til out of the night's misty gloam
Came a wandering ancient, demented and lost
Still trying to find his way home
"All gone! All gone!" he didst cry
And with many a sigh
Told a tale of his quest for "The Services"
And how his clan, called "The Shorts"
Had abandoned him there
For to find the beer stop was his purpose
His name it was Mike, so they gathered him in,
And took him on with them 'til they reached Graham's Inn
Where hospitable Hawkeye brews ales and fine beers
And they all raised a glass and wished Phil birthday cheers
Then back to the boozer for chips in great number
And t-shirt and tankard for Rob and for Ken
Then off they went home, and well did they slumber
And next week they'll do it again.