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The Friends

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  • The Friends

    Peter I’d known since we were kids though as a youth he was a prat
    until Joan cured him of all that with consequences of his id.

    Now Frank came with the marriage vows as both our wives were friends, a fact
    that led our choice of our first flat as Peter also lived there now

    Our common link was Mereston Brow converted into “flats for rent,”
    mock Tudor where our lives were spent in a lost land that’s foreign now.

    It’s lawn was large and had a man who droned in circles half a day
    to trim the docks and weeds away then bed his mower in his van

    Next Frank would shout, “a game you chumps, then take the girls down to the pub,
    [ he fast bowled for the cricket club ! ] “ a practice hour then we’ll draw stumps “.

    With schoolboy fear myself and Pete would lace two pillows to our thighs
    and on the lawn barely disguise survival meant more than defeat.

    An hour of “fowles” and flying bales then babysitters ended play,
    and we’d limp off to the “Five Ways” for six agnostics wine and ale.

    Then while we “lads” bragged in the snug and bribe Franks silence with a round
    the girls talked lesions bloody brown and shared their tissues and their hugs.

    For in two months Frank’s life was done, skin cancer was his final match
    and it was fate that made the catch that left life’s game without our chum.

    Our cricket suffered poorly led, the captain of our sport was gone
    with pillows back where they belonged as thought and not our thighs now bled.

    Then Peter, haunted by some dread, killed both his children one hells night
    whilst we slept sound with hope alight not knowing that our world was dead.

    These friends they came and life it goes, you can’t predict from what you know,
    for what you know is in lights gleam, death the assassin stalks unseen.
    • Dennis Compton, famous cricketer.

  • #2
    Ouch. Quite a tale, algernon! I like the rhyme scheme you built into it. I didn't catch it at first but it kept niggling at me beneath the tale.


    • #3
      This is a sad and sorry tale, with moral so true, it aches to hear. Forgive my ignorance, but is this based on a true series of events? If so, my sympathies - on all counts.

      I too, am taken with your rhyme. It's rhythm carries deftly throughout. Nicely done.
      Last edited by RhymeLovingWriter; 03-12-2018, 06:43 PM.


      • #4
        This kept me reading and made me sad for life’s twists and turns sometimes are filled with such horrific events. Great rhyme and story.


        • #5
          Thank you to each of you for reading ad also commenting so favourably. In answer to your question RLW the people and events are all factual but the father murdering his children didn't occur then but refers to someone I encountered later in life elsewhere. The narrater is in fact my father as it was my childhood home.