ramblings and things

1,224,887 poems read

Walpurgis Nacht in Austria
expecting moans and wails
as we’re sitting in the pub
telling Macabre tales.
Wally’s a bit chastened
after wandering off on his own
to find the woods a bit eerie
for ghost hunting all alone.

It was only his trusty torch,
signalling out "oh Shit"
in flashing morse code
in steady Dahs and Dits,
that helped us to find and
bring him back from the hill.
I think he still regrets his
drunken hunting for a thrill.

And the locals from the inn,
our newly made mates
stay with us drinking and
laughing until it's very late.
I'm all snuggled and warm
In my issue sleeping bag
breathing in the fumes
from old Pete's fag.

Suddenly it's morning and
I'm being shaken awake,
almost time to return from
our Austrian walking break.
We say thanks and goodbye to a
brown brother wandering around
for letting us pitch our tent
in the monastery grounds.

Its Innsbruck next stop,
rucksack a heavy load,
but not long after dawn
we're back on the road.
Enjoy this coming day,
our Austrian holiday's last,
local leave  nearly finished
and Walpurgis nacht is past.

Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem