19 Oct 2008

With the greatest of respect to the book of prayer

This is especially for Reggo and his little round podge he continues to refer to.

Our lager
Which art in barrels
Hallowed be thy drink.

Thy will be drunk
(I will be drunk)
At home as in the tavern.

Give us this day our foamy head
and forgive us our spillages
As we forgive those who spill against us.
And lead us not into incarceration
But deliver us from hangovers.

For thine is the beer
The bitter and the lager
For ever and ever

1 comment:

R.R.Jones said...

Sometimes a poem will move me in a most mysterious way, and this one moved me to tears. :-)
Actually, I'm not too good at the moment. I can't seem to be able to "Man it out" anymore.
There was a time when I could quaff like a parched camel for three days at a time and not feel a twinge from any of my major organs.
Nowadays it seems I only have to whiff a bag of winegums and I'm knocked out for two days.
Age, it's ugly and there's no stopping it.