An Arctic Expedition
It’s Spring, it’s fine, the world is lush and green;We’ll drive out for a walk, then do the shops –
Once, that is, you’ve scanned the weather screen
For any rain or temperature drops,
And satisfied yourself you might get wet
But still stay warm, or then again stay dry,
But under cloud – it’s barometer roulette,
With every chance you’ll either freeze or fry.
So out come both cagoules, the old and new –
One for the walk, the other M&S,
(Their air conditioning turns your fingers blue,
So perhaps a pair of gloves as well? Yes, let’s!)
And as for cardigans, just two? Or three?
The heavy duty, medium and fine?
All three of course; what’s it to me,
The bloke who’ll end up carrying ‘em half the time?!
Then there’s the trousers. Jeans don’t show the dirt,
And make you look delightful as you are.
But no, Phase Eight it seems requires a skirt –
You’ll change them on the back seat of the car,
And swap your tights as well! The thermal pair
Beneath your jeans won’t match your blouse or shoes;
And whilst you’re at it, extra underwear –
Emptying out the drawer might help you choose.
Next maps and water, chocolate bars and cake,
Last weekend’s Telegraph to read at lunch;
Lipstick, lipsalve, that stuff for muscle-ache,
Mobile, housekeys, car keys – you’ll take your bunch;
And where’s that dress you’re meaning to take back?
“It’s with the suit that needed taking in” –
And while I’m up there, could I fetch your mac’?
But then, good God, we’re ready to begin –
If the computer’s off, the windows closed,
The back door’s locked, the cooker’s not still on.
I glare, my patience now quite decomposed.
Was ever righteousness so put upon?!
The car looks like a jumble sale on wheels.
“I think I’ll pop and fetch the kitchen sink”,
I jest – it sprawls like sheered stiletto heels,
And you suggest I have another think,
Behave myself, and turn the ignition key.
Ignition key? Now, where did I put that?
And then, to deepen my indignity,
My driving specs aren’t here. “You silly prat!”
I curse myself, following you inside;
And there, with the offending items, find –
As bold as innocence personified –
My wallet and my phone both left behind.
Too late, I see your thoroughness was right,
And my impatience meant I’d dropped my guard;
That expeditions which we expedite
Are ones we’ll far more probably retard.
So now, like boys who poke at gelignite,
I’m hoist upon my own obtuse petard.
The moral is – be patient and polite,
Unless you want your ego badly charred;
However slow the progress, show delight
At each and every labyrinthine yard!
