I must get up for a pee again; it’s the second time tonight
The loo is down the corridor, and I daren’t put on the light.
And the floor’s cold and the pipes sing and the washbasin is shaking
There’s a wet pool on the loo floor, and my patience close to breaking.
I must get up for a pee again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied
And all I ask is a night’s sleep and eight hours’ snoozing
But once again I’m on the move - the third time’s not amusing.
I must get up for a pee again, for my bladder’s need is pressing
A long walk or a wet bed, they’re equally distressing.
I’m standing by the loo again, and hear the waters rushing
And the flung spray and the blown spume and the cistern flushing.
I must get up for a pee again, it’s the fourth time in a row
But when his prostate calls a man, a man has got to go.
And all I ask is a soft bed to sleep in till the morning
And never to see the loo again until the day is dawning.
With respectful acknowledgement to John Masefield PL
I retired to the Cotswolds ten years ago after selling the retail business in North Wales which I had built up over forty long years. Fortunately for my sanity most of my time was spent creating advertising copy and promotions, which dramatically increased the business and taught me the power of words. Being a member of the Chippy Writers’ Group encouraged me to attempt a lifelong ambition to write a novel. Recently published, In the Shadow of Hitler is a romance set in the ruins of bombed-out Hamburg in 1946.... more