"ASLEEP IN THE BEEP"

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 6, Issue 63, 9 April 1943, Page 3

"ASLEEP IN THE BEEP"

Down on the bed of the occan deep — Till the sea gives up her dead; they sleep. Oh for the good old prc-car days— When nights were long and calm — And there was naught to interfere— With slumbers soothing balm. No humming, drumming, groaning gears— Nor the aftermath of surreptitious beers. The pubs Avere open till 10 tis true — But they retailed good old barley breAV The bottled beer Avas British Bass — Reminiscent of. the upper class— The monacles and. the airs and graces—• Of the Savoy, deah boy! and such SAvell places. The cat census Avas one per mile— With no feline sirens to beguile— NoAA r the Avelkin nightly rings— With serenades from living strings— Accompanied bj r bottles, boots and tins.— And a multitude of-verbal sins. Bottles bottles eA r crywhere— But not a drop to drink— Of the good old fashioned stout and ale — The war gargle? I don't think — The flavours insipidly sinister— And the price has soared to the stratosphere. ,When I am dead, don't lay my bones— Where the traffic rocks memorial stones — By night as Avell as day— But let me sink and soundly sleepRocked in the cradle of the deep— While stars their lonely A'igils keep— And mermaids fair, Avhen the dawn is grey— Their soothing requiems softly play. H. SERGANT.