The Picnic to end all Picnics

22 Sep

Battenburg and Belgian buns
Sandwiches and sausages rolls
Lemonade and ginger beer
Go play child, your father’s here.

I sat and watched them from afar
They didn’t eat or drink a thing
They talked and talked and both looked sad
As they broke the ‘and’ between ‘mum’ and ‘dad’.

I don’t know what they talked about
Neither comforted the other
As both of them began to cry
While a world away, alone sat I.

In a little while my father came
Goodbye my pet, I’ll see you soon
He went away and that was it
Leaving me, my mum and our picnic basket

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: