Now think well of this story, you beer-loving blokes.
It's often recounted with humour by folks
Who know The Three Horseshoes serve very strong ale,
And it’s this which attributes so much to this tale.
After downing six pints of the pub’s strongest brew,
Albert Downing stood up and he said his adieu.
He then zig-zagged off home down a quiet country lane,
And not till next morning was he seen again.
Albert’s wife went to bed, for she thought he’d be late,
But at four in the morning her fear became great,
For she woke in the dark quite alone in her bed,
And fear overcame her and filled her with dread.
There was nothing to do but to wait until day
And then she'd discover where Albert had strayed,
For, with six pints inside him, he wouldn’t go far,
And was probably sleeping out under the stars.
Albert drunkenly staggered back home to his bed,
But mistook his own gate for the farm gate instead.
He was feeling quite drunk, as no one can deny,
And he spent the whole night with a sow in her sty.
With his arms wrapped around her, he spoke of his love:
'My darling, my dearest, my sweet turtle dove,'
And, nestling beside her, he snored all the night,
But, on waking, he'd reason for feeling some fright
For a couple of policemen were calling his name,
And to wake with a hangover seemed such a shame
For he and the sow had no cause for lament,
For what a good night she and Albert had spent.
So remember old Albert as you next stagger home
And pay good attention to where you do roam
For the sow may be warm and your night quite content
But that farmer’s now charging a fortune in rent.
Copyright on all my poems