Why are we at daggers drawn until dawn?
Who fights a duel except a fool?
Death rather than dishonour, yes, he said, as for me I’d rather stay in bed.
He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day.
So they say.
Why fight all night, why be uptight?
I am seventy-six and survived some dirty tricks.
Its as clear as mud to me its better if we agree.
Now and then, as Elvis sang, there’s a fool such as me.
People just like me died young, alone, unhonoured and unsung.
I don’t wish to die for a flag or any other rag.
That’s not my bag.
Nor do I wish to die alone in a tangled mess of blood and bone.
Why can’t we leave each other alone?
Talk, at least on the telephone.
Friendliness is not unknown.
Blood or an ice cream cone?
I know which choice is mine.
I hope the weather keeps fine.
13th July, 2017