Long Years

Long Years

My cousin Michael asked me to contribute to the cause

But when I think of Brian, I regret I find no flaws

A situation you might think deserves some mild applause

Though others may consider more in line for wild guffaws.


Let’s go back to the start to when we all first met at Bray

For in those lazy summers all we ever did was play

But being so grown up he clocked we’d not a lot to say

So sensibly, he’d leave we ‘kids’ with minimum delay.


Our journey then continued at both Summerfields and Stowe

Where our beloved parents thought the three of us should go

And though we didn’t cross paths much he put on one fine show

Until the day when asked what’s next and stammered “I don’t know”.


The Colonies were fun we heard so Brian duly went

And with the golf and sunshine must have deemed them heaven sent

And some years later so did I, though not with my consent

But to repay my indolence and savings that I’d spent.


Now Brian’s best career move would involve some strange bar code

The blasted things were everywhere, on bottles by the load

Their usage inexplicably continues to explode

Which seems to keep his empire ‘oh so sweetly’ on the road.


It wasn’t long before dear Brian made up his mind to wed

A lovely girl, who let’s be frank, may well have been misled

But as it turned out both their occupations streaked ahead

And soon a bundle came along, a new mouth to be fed.


Since then decades have past and here we find ourselves again

Another wedding day from which I sadly must abstain

To bride and groom I raise a glass of finest French champagne

And pray that laughter ever fills the long years that remain.