The Heroic Man

How I wish I was born the ‘Heroic-Man ,

And travel the globe to foil the odd plan,

Of World Domination by a Mad Doctor or two,

Then Bloody his nose and blow-up his H.Q. 

But when fate dealt the cards it was never my lot,

So I ambled  along with the life that I got.

No ‘Femme Fatale’ or ‘Russian Spy’, to entrap me with all her charms ,

My other half is the Fish shop girl,

All Tattoos and Wrestlers Arms. 

No Aston Martin awaits outside,

For the tables at ‘Royal’ with Le Chiffre,

As I place my Bet with the Bingo Set , 

All Grannies with National Health Teeth. 

No ‘Savile Row’ suits that are elegantly cut , 

My Shoes of the finest made ,

I am what you see , a pity-full sight,

An advert for Christian Aid. 

No ‘U.N.C.L.E.’ agent or ‘Saint’ am I ,

Nor partner to the divine ‘Mrs Peel’,

I’ve never traveled  to some exotic locale ,

Or Punch-Ups to bring Villains to heel. 

A life of intrigue would be my plan’

All ‘Jason King ‘ And ‘Danger Man.

But as it is , the Gods did see ,

I was never the Man I hoped to be.