A poem for lost youth

Hey you, do you remember me?
We used to sit atop the tree
Search our pockets gingerly
For stolen pieces of broccolli (this bit only works if you pronounce it Broccol-EE rather than Broccol-I)
Break the heads against our knee
And eat the flowers for our tea

It wasn't for us to go to the supermarket
Take the car, make sure to park it
Stroll towards the vegetable aisle
Search for broc and take a pile
Pay with pennies at the till
Don't hesitate to eat your fill

No, we would skip on the farmer's field
Look around, then pinch his yield
Take the stash to our favourite oak
By the pond where the toads would croak
There we'd lay our broc a plenty
Count the lot from one to twenty

Then up that oak we would climb
Where at the top we would dine
On broc, then broc then some more broc
And after that we would rock
To AC/DC or Brotherhood of Man
Then go back to our caravan

Where's it's off to bed, take off shoe and sock
And for a midnight feast we'd have some........broc!

Posted By: mickfoot on June 24th 2011 at 00:06:14

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