Heindly Lane

Another run to feed the people
Sunny afternoon quest
I turn right off Barnsley road
and always grow quite vexed

The cherry trees that overhang
Heindly lane are ripe
The berries fall upon the road
Fermenting in sunlight

This brings a flock of piss head doves
Who gorge on tarmac Liqueur
They gather and bumble in the road
I wish their numbers were fewer

I honk my horn and slow right down
The avian alcoholics ‘Coo’
“Fly you drunken feathered fools”
(If not so wrecked they would have too)

Instead they bumble, half to air
Then fall back on feathered heads
Slurring curses squawking harsh
Then hop to bushes on stick legs


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