I prayed ever second day
The rest of the week I stayed right down by the docks
Imagine that, darkened to a point of no real return – almost
Loading every single ship that ever remained long enough
Times were tough – hardened
Steel wits albeit treated with atrocious disdain
Those bullies – they yearned for my pain to come to awesome fruition
On their part at least
All I speak fondly of is my grandmother Jane’s late-evening feast
Gammon, chips and pineapple
Then so much as a juiced peach and pear, clotted cream by my side
I do try and hide the rest