Mr Purvis takes his coffee and
an extra sugar; "please!"
'Miss Jones; her brand of cigarettes,
smoking's something she regrets,
grabs her two large milky teas.
The dustman with his usual paper,
comes in with his usual style.
His orange work-suit glowing bright,
fills the shop with orange light,
then leaving with his usual smile!
Mrs Soper's chocolate bar;
mints and bottled water.
Oh the tales she doth tell,
none of which do readeth well,
'bout her youngest; wayward daughter!
Every morning just like clockwork,
men and women; routeens set.
Any change or deviation,
change the fortunes of the nation,
might important steps forget!
Checking pockets; keys in hand,
off to dreary working land.
"The piles of bills we have to pay,
unfortunately; won't go away!"
Off to dreary working land,
the route and routeen carefully planned...
Except this morning; without warning,
Mr Timmings; what is wrong?
Not the collar and cuffs presented
Not the chin both shaved and scented
An outfit from, 'a lower draw',
and shoes that had never seen polish before!
On enquiring of "the usual drink?",
a simple reply; returned with a wink.
"Ciggys! And make it twenty please,
I've heard that smoking is a wheeze!"
"I'm off for a spin along the coast,
I'll find a pub with an excellent host.
I'll take a room; some lunch with wine.
Don't worry about me; for I'll be fine!"
"This routeen's started to get me down,
a feeling of dread with a permanent frown.
A change of scene?
A different view...?
...May-be you should try it too?!"