The week was long, they worked me hard,
Outside, sun beating down in relentless shards,
Teasing me, taunting me, calling my name, ‘
Put down your tools, join in my game…
’ No! Continue to toil I must,
To earn my bread, a sorry crust.
But after the train, and my journey home I necked that beer….
…ahhh, first pint syndrome.
© David Preston, Beer Tinted Spectacles 2012