Fun

In a bar at a table we drink beer

full of cheers and cheers, cheer;

Andrew plays with musical toys

boisterous, boy-like, boisterous toys:

drinkers turn with ready eyes

and barmaids feint in mock surprise

at such momentous foolery now and here.

 

By the kitchen table, we chomp toast:

into taste and teeth and taste;

chewing faces -  smiles like sun

it’s fun, it’s fun, it’s funny fun

and, as the sun drops Yorkshire hills,

our sample set of simple thrills

begins to end - a singular day is done.