Portraits (1)


You’d never guess he was that

Old - ramrod straight he carried

Two pints from the bar and didn’t

even spill a drop


Natty dresser too with sports

Trousers and leather jacket on

No hat or scarf or gloves

Out juts his chest as he

Confronts the freezing cold while

Aspens tremble in the wind


They said he must not drive

Just after treatment for his

Cataracts a while ago but he

Simply laughed it off and drove

Home normally as in the past


Survived as prisoner of war

When captured by the Hun in

1941 at least that is the word

Out on the street – nicer guy

You couldn’t hope to meet and

Him at ninety-four

◄ One Man's Tobacco

Irreverence ►


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Ann Foxglove

Fri 3rd Dec 2010 20:16

I like this poem - it is neat, concise and to the pint. A well summed up individual.

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