Rob sat in his usual seat,
sat in corner of the cafe, sat in the corner of the pub.
Rob buying rounds for friends and hangers on.
Rob always smiles and no frowns,
always patient and no compliants.
Rob freed of his wage packet drinking with his mates.
Rob all politeness and like,
all softly spoken and no exaggeration.
Rob clasping the hand of his one and only beau.
Rob never whinging or sponging money off others,
never flirting with his admirers.
Rob a farm hand working his fingers to the bone.
Rob hanging from the barn rafters
leaving his friends hanging.
No words on a manilla note.
© Stewart Tunnicliff 1998