The Shopping Basket
"Just imagine this"
Your guests are coming to your up-market flat
the dinner you plan must reflect your status
with that.
Melon boats for starters, a glass of rare wine,
roast pheasant or grouse and vegetables of all
kind, fruit sorbert for afters, fruits from the tropics
and wines from the vine.
You fill your trolley, right to the top, luxuries and
goodies, a mouth watering lot.
You stand in the queue thats trailing far back, your
eyes gaze to the persons at your front and your back.
You look in one basket that’s meagre and bland, just
four items of food you could carry by hand.
Scrag-end of mutton, and onion for stew, oxo for gravy
a potatoe or two.
Their hair is quite grey, they stoop and they limp, their
clothing is shabby and thread bare with age, now they
are in their twilight stage.
Adjusting their glasses for a better view, they whisper
your name "Hallo Son, is that you?",
Peter Wicks
In Britain today the old folk have lost the respect of their
Children, a walking bank book, but when the book is
Empty, so is the falseness of their love for you revealed...
No comments:
Post a Comment