I’ve still got two Stowford’s just sat in the fridge,
And I know that you’re thinking that that’s sacrilege
But I seldom drink alcohol when I’m alone
And as Ani’s teetotal, I’m all on my own.
I’ll save them, I thought, for a nice sunny day
When the garden gets done, or I’ve been out to play
Taking Ani out into the fields for a run…
I’ll be hot and bothered, and then I’ll have one.
But of course I forget, as I am quite unused
And the habit of such luxury is reduced –
To have Stowford’s at home, well that’s really quite new,
So you’d think I’d be up for imbibing a few.
As a gift, I must say, that their welcome was sure
And the knowledge I do not have weeks to endure
Before getting a pint of that cool, golden liquor…!
I could not have accepted them any quicker!
And yet they still sit there, all frosty and chilled,
Not even because I have been iron willed,
Or, miserly, seek to hang on to my treasure…
I simply forget to indulge in the pleasure!
Tomorrow, however, I’ll be celebrating
The well-padded cushioning for which I’m waiting
Should finally make it as far as my door
And I won’t have to fall off my chair any more.
You may well remember the tale of the chair
That decided to break and throw me through the air,
Where I landed in such an inelegant heap
And with tail off the chair where the bruising went deep…
So to deep leather padding, and proper adjusting…
Wheels that stay on and in which I’ll be trusting,
With thanks and with cider, I’ll raise up my glass
To a chair that stops me falling right on my…….