I could not join our table
as I  had to take the call,
so I joined the yeomen set
finding a last free seat
with farmer, wife and son.

Hellos and names we traded
then sat in shifty silence.
What had we in common?
I from big city  business
they from a Cornish farm.

Mutual dog interest ignited
us briefly, but then it died.
Came shady silence again
I fought for connection;
but nothing came to mind

Till, just a chance maybe.
I told the Hat-Dog joke.
All three sat and stared
Fat Joe ,a ruddy vastness
wife Sal, a small grey mouse

Both seemed to be adrift;
young Tony looked to each.
At last a Humph, from Joe,
and fleeting gleam of eye.
A pause. A twitch from Sal

Then Joe harrumphed again
his jowls began to quiver
rippling down his frame
A mottled quake heaving
Ha, broke forth Ha Ha Ha

Titter, twittered mousey Sal
breaking to breathless squeaks.
Little Tony grins vicariously.
Then like a Vulcan shaking all
great bellows assaulted Joe.

He claps me on the back
he’ll tell one about his horse,
-when he’s caught his breath.
Now, we are all together
in happy laughing heaven

© John Watts 2017


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