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Autumn

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Autumn

Autumn's reached, now we've retired
Athletes shot, who've run their race
No need for claims that we're inspired
At work, not told to watch our place.

For forty years we've done our share
We put our shoulders to the plough
No more mortgage, no more care
It's time for some enjoyment now.

Kids are gone, we've scraped some savings
We even get our pensions paid
Shall we now indulge our cravings
Spend this little pot we've made.

A cottage would be great, but face it
We haven't got enough my dear
A brand new car, so Scamp can chase it
Frivolous, I hear you sneer.

We've talked at length, discussion's done
Ambitious plans, and things beneath
It's not a holiday in the sun
It's hearing aids and brand new teeth.

By Hobbo

A contemporary poet with a Yorkshire sense of humour

2 replies on “Autumn”

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