Time if you please
Meg had been the landlord
Of the Rancid Stoat and Quail
But now at ninety five
She wasn’t pulling ale.
T’was the fire that she was craving
That kept her old bones well.
These days she just huddled close
And listened to the tales.
She’d had a happy childhood
With her sisters, mum and dad.
Wild in the countryside –
Life hadn’t been so bad.
And when she’d been a-courtin’
She’d had her share of bliss
Dancing with the lads
And sharing many a kiss.
But she’d settled down
With her handsome husband Syd
And working well together
Created many a kid.
Those had been the happiest days
With her family all around
A house so full of gaiety
Where laughter was the sound.
No matter how they’d grown
No matter how big they were
Even with families of their own,
They were still just kids to her.
She wondered where the time had gone
The years had flown so fast.
But they were full and happy days
When dwelling on the past.
But now her body lurched.
She felt her heart jerk.
Her whole world was spinning
Before a gathering murk.
With a sigh she slid
From her chair down to her knees
As a voice in her head called:
‘Time – Time if you please!’
15.5.2019
This was a title with my writing group. I started to write something funny (as can be seen from the rancid stoat) but I was kind of caught up in a little sentimental story and this is how it came out.
Time was what they used to call in the pubs and ring their bell to signal last orders.
One day it will be time for us all.