Poetry

Twenty three sleeps

By 3rd September 2009December 9th, 2019No Comments

Its only twenty three sleeps, until I can make my escape,
back to reality, back to my space.

Back to my home, up there in Fife,
to the child I helped create, and my gorgeous wife.

The whisky will be flowing, with the love and the song,
but two weeks won’t last forever, it doesn’t last for long.

Then it’s back to the desert, the sun and the sand,
risking your life, for an extra couple of grand.

Dave Stenhouse

Author Dave Stenhouse

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