Goldfinch60

Goldie and Orchi at Hastings.

Nine hundred and fifty years ago,

On this very day ,

There we were, Orchi and I,

Sitting on Hastings beach,

Minding our own business,

Just eating some pork pies.

Me drinking my whisky,

WITHOUT WATER!

Orchi drinking his sherry.

I was trying to explain to Orchi

The meaning of

 Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia,

While He was trying to say

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

We looked out to sea,

There approaching were these boats

Loaded with men,

All had swords and spears,

And one had a bow and arrow.

Behind us horses were galloping,

They came to us on the beach.

Harold was there,

He asked if he could have a pie,

Orchi declined,

Saying “Pigs will fly

Before I release a pie!”

He pointed into the sky

And said to Harold,

“See that flying pig!”

I had always told Orchi

That pointing was rude,

And in this case,

It was dangerous!

As Harold fell from his horse

An arrow in his eye.

And that was the day

That Orchi said to me

“Give me a scotch, without water!”

Out of the kindness of my heart

I gave Orchi a SMALL scotch.

He fell to the ground

Shouting “Alas poor Yorick

I knew him well, fill up the walls

With your English dead Romeo”

From that day Orchi and context

Have never been the same,

And water always goes in his scotch.