A builder and a poet sat drinking.
“I am thinking
That its getting black outside.
The moon does hide
Her face.
One can trace
In yonder darkening sky
The fall from grace
Of you and I”,
The poet said
With a shake of his greying head.

“Me missus will
Kill me.
I said I’d be back for 3.
That can’t be right,
The clock says its 10 at night!
Me tea
Will be in the dog, (or over me)!

Oh you poets have such charm.
Go on then, as you twist my arm
I’ll have another drink.
Now what did you think
Of the match earlier today?
And by the way
Did you ever play?”