London days

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Copyright © 2008, Michael M Wayman


we went to a restaurant		where the waiter spoke in rhyme
did he love me		i do not know
he ordered chicken curry		i the beef stroganov
he choked on the chicken		perhaps a bone in the throat
i ordered butter for him		he looked rather blue
i took him in my arms		he was not happy
we went to his place		it was so dark and slummy
i took him to bed		i held him so tight
he slept without thinking		it rolled off the table
the apple lay on the floor		it had there fallen
what was the secret		the no not any more