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Lost again

I was travelling to Thursford, one day in the car
And I’d followed directions I’d got in the bar
We were on Caister road, was it left was it right
It was late, we were lost we were losing the light
We spotted a policeman and asked of him “pray,
Thursford my friend, can you tell me the way”
Well, he started to chuckle, he grinned then he laughed
Said “ you’ve listened to John, you’ve been pretty daft
It’s a good forty mile, you’ve had a bum steer
It’ll take you an hour, cos it’s nowhere near here”
So Johnny, old pal, your directions are crap, and
Next time I go out I’m consulting a map

Editing stage: 

Comments

I like it. wesley

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Why, thank you Wesley, it's good to know that it made somebody smile.

John

author comment

it lightens the day

cheers,
Jess, Neopoet Directors
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Aaaw shucks, thank you sir. I've got to admit this one made the regulars at my local pub laugh, because they all knew who and what it was about. Mind you it took John a little while to see the funny side.

John

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