I walked into the nightclub in the morning,
there was Kummel on the handle of the door,
the ashtrays were unemptied,
The cleaning unattempted,
And a squashed tomato sandwich on the floor.

I pulled aside the thick magenta curtains
So Regency, so Regency, my dear
And a host of little spiders
Ran a race across the ciders
To a box of baby 'pollies by the beer.

Oh sun upon the summergoing bypass
Where ev'rything is speeding to the sea,
And wonder beyond wonder
that here where lorries thunder
The sun should ever percolate to me.

When Boris used to call in his Sedanca,
When Teddy took me down to his estate,
When my nose excited passions,
And my clothes were in the fashion,
When my beaux were never cross if I was late,

There was sun enough for lazing upon beaches
There was fun enough for far into the night;
But I'm dying now and done for,
What on earth was all the fun for?
I am ill and old and terrified and tight.

ENJOY MORE
A small island encircled by formidable oceans, Sri Lanka is a mystery to many: remote, hard to place; a well-kept secret. The Ceylon Press seeks to make its complicated story more accessible. The Press publishes a range of podcasts including The History Of Sri Lanka; the off-grid Jungle Diaries podcast; Island Stories, the podcast that explores what makes Sri Lanka, Sri Lankan; Archaeologies, the blank verse diaries of an occasional hermit; as well as Poetry from The Jungles’ two podcasts, 101 Poets; and 100 Poet, 100 Poems. All these, along with eBooks, dictionaries, guides and companions can be found at www.theceylonpress.com, based at The Flame Tree Estate & Hotel in the jungle west of Kandy .