Poetry

Mr Peabody

26/07/07
Mr Peabody

Mr Peabody said "Have a sandwich, take two,"
I held up my hand and declined;
Disappoinment apparent on Peabody's face
So I told him: "I've already dined."

We sat on a bench in the park about noon,
He often did this during lunch -
A break in the fresh air from office routine,
From the blokes there, the girls, "all that bunch",

That's what he said, Henry Peabody did,
"Every day I just have to depart
From the desk and the files and the boss and his tongue
And the talk and.... you see, it's my heart,

The doctor, you see, said my ticker was weak,
Nothing serious, a beat now and then
When it shouldn't be beating - something like that -
Most common in middle-aged men.

If only..." his hand was raised up in a clench
As if to grasp sustenance there -
"If only there'd have been more fun in my life
I could take it and not have a care;

If only promotion had come as deserved
I'd have p'raps made enough to retire
On a pension that kept me in comfort of sorts,
A room with a view and a fire;

Put my feet up in front of it, read a good book,
Go to sleep in the day, sort of thing,
Just relax, take a nap, cup of tea if I liked,
In my own little way 'have a fling'.

Well it's time to get back to the office again,"
He smiled as he held out his hand,
"Always grumbling, that's me," Henry Peabody said,
"The weather, O, isn't it grand!"

So he made his way back in his soft trilby hat
And his suit and his well-polished shoes,
And I wondered about him for just a few secs,
Then forgot him as everyone does.