Dear Andrew, Thank you
- all of you – the other evening,
for a pub of drinking men,
drunks and fat boys, teenagers:
all a father needs when out for a pint
with his wife and special son,
walking up cobbles and drinking down
lemonade, fosters, ice and a slice,
but it was dancing at the juke box
- retro rock – loud as a propeller
that got the locals up on the dance floor
- oh yes, and the Down’s boy
smiling like a sunrise
turning. With love. Sincerely yours,
