AFTER THE PARTY

AFTER THE PARTY We had a wild beach party, Far into the night. The beer was flowing freely, Then, as it was getting light, I found an old wine bottle, Half buried in the sand. And in it was a message, Penned in a shaking hand, “I’m marooned on a tropical island At the following address. Please someone come and rescue me. From a lady in distress.” Being rather worse for wear, My brain in a bit of a mess, I went and hired a rowing boat And set off for the address. It took me all of three weeks To reach my destination. (It’s hard without a sat-nav, To pin-point the location.) And there she stood, wearing fig-leaves And nothing else at all. I rescued her and rowed back home. Now I can’t wait for the fall.