List of Claude Morris' Poems
  A Grave Situation    
  A Rum Complaint    
  Commercial TV D.T.s    
  The Draw-Back    
  The Eucalyptus Cutter    
  The Legend of Angel Creek
  The Run-up    
  The Shooting Of Sam McHugh    
  The Topaz Trail    

A Grave Situation

© Claude Morris

When I staggered away from my favourite pub,
The night was dark and still,
And I thought I'd take a short cut home,
That led over Cemetery Hill.
Now I'm not a hero as everyone knows,
And I have no reckless trends,
But ghosts and the like leave me cold, as it were,
And spirits and I are old friends.

I wobbled along through the cemetery gates,
Begging my legs to behave,
And everything went pretty well, so I thought,
Till I fell down a newly-dug grave.
For a moment I thought I had landed in hell,
And ended my earthly career.
I sniffed like a hound for the sulphurous fumes,
Expecting Old Nick to appear.

But reason returned and I staggered erect,
My prison so dark, to survey,
And tested my bones for a fracture or two,
But everything functioned O.K.
I made a feeble attempt to get out,
But it needed no more than a glance
To tell me that in my condition,
I hadn't the ghost of a chance.

I reckoned I'd have a lay-off for awhile,
And when I woke sober and fit,
I'd surely come up with a first-class idea,
That would get me up out of the pit.
Just then I could hear fast oncoming steps,
That seemed too good to be true,
But ere I could 'Coo-ee' or offer advice,
In the grave there were suddenly two!

It happened he fell in the grave's other end,
With no one to cushion his fall;
But he rose like a shot with a high-pitched yelp,
And attempted to scale up the wall.
This chap was at pains to be up and away,
As the capers he cut, plainly told;
He jumped and he scrambled and jumped again,
But his fingers and toes wouldn't hold.

I hadn't yet spoken - I'd hardly a chance,
The way he cavorted about,
And I had to admire the way that he fought
To sever all ties and get out.
Of course, he believed there was nobody near -
He thought he was there all alone,
And I got the idea it had entered his head
That the grave was becoming his own.

I felt a bit sad for the poor little guy,
Now acting a little distraught,
And I thought he'd relax if I gave him the drum,
That he wasn't alone, as he thought.
So I walked up behind him and tapped on his back
As he paused for another wild bid;
‘You CAN'T make it mate,' I breathed in his ear —
But by the Lord Harry, he DID!


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The Legend of Angel Creek by Claude Morris