December 3, 2012

 

 

The expectation

The razzamatazz

The once a year parties

filled with pizzazz.

The over indulgence

The extra drink they insist,

and with time forgotten,

the last train home missed.

The slip of the tongue

The cocky remark

‘Nothing meant personally mate,

just having a lark’.

The battle from nowhere

The verbal attack

Pals trying to restrain you,

but copping the whack.

Then homeward bound

by taxi that costs,

just as dawn is breaking,

with the morning frost.

And finally –

A punch on the nose

and a dig in the ribs

from her indoors

for telling her fibs.

 

 

 

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