Rosie with Cider

After ANM revealed his first drunken night had been from drinking scrumpy at the age of 14 I couldn't help myself, I may have embellished some of the details!

Now listen up you young'uns while I speak a yarn of woe,

a naive young lad of fourteen years is our heroic beau.

What follows next is a lesson that you really ought to remember,

cause the hapless chap in this ere tale was hungover till December.

He skipped his class one afternoon halfway through the summer,

across the playground and over the field he was doing a runner.

Down the old lane and through the orchard next to the barbed wire fence,

A farmer lived there with an old grey mare sold cider for 50 pence.

Now I like's a drop of Scrumpy, what they call a pint of apples,

but the roughened cider in this ere tale had started legendary battles.

He grasped the flagon in two sweaty hands and raised it to his lips,

from what I’ve heard from the farmer he reckons he only had two sips.

He started swaying slowly, his gills were turning green,

his eyes started doing somersaults, from his mouth a piercing scream.

He waved his arms up in the air and started spinning round,

standing there one minute the next unconscious on the ground.

The farmer was getting nervous, he was having slight remorse,

also he was wondering where the hell to bury the corpse.

Well our hero wasn't finished and bolted upright up with a start,

they say he took off out the orchard faster than a dart.

And this is where our tale does end and the story of the rough brew

last I'd heard our hapless friend had beat the 6.45 to Crewe!

Reviews

[Jack V.]

You have fun with your writing don't ya? Okay, subscribing.

[ANM]

Very good great mental images! And pretty near to what actually happened cannot stand the smell of the stuff ever since!

[Tinotenda Nyevedzanai]

Haha brilliant loved it :)

[carrotcruncher]

Thank you Ally the Cat, it was fun to write