A Real Pea Souper
It was a cold and gloomy Friday A damp start to the day The drive to town was slow and white The kangaroos were kept at bay.
At five pm the fog rolled in All the way up Sladen Street It threw a blanket over us We felt its icy sheet.
A shroud of white became the night Homeward bound through eerie silence Hands gripped tightly to the wheel With the passenger offering guidance.
And eventually, although quite late We emerged from the monochrome And next time that fog rolls around Recommend one stays at home.
Trudy Smith