Saturday 12 August 2017

I remember


I remember him
The smoky dance floor
And the boozy nights
Trad jazz band playing
We were in our teens
Laughing at nothing
When we both got stoned

He joined the forces
Then when I asked why
His answer was just
To see the wide world
Never imagined
Him with back pack on
The day that he phoned

It wasn't all true
Bare faced lies in fact
He bagged a job as 
A special agent
Unknown to us all
'Til his wife called 
Surprised I'd not known

Well push came to shove
They lost him abroad
Came back a hero
But dead to the world
Played jazz in the church
I'd pushed for that thought
Of times we were stoned

Image found at www.eveyo.com

3 comments:

  1. what a wonderful reflection Old Egg - I can't imagine you stoned

    ReplyDelete
  2. lovely tale and poem, Old Egg :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. He would have more heroic feats to show if not for the untimely demise!

    Hank

    ReplyDelete