Second Letter Home

Mum, I know you'll think I'm potty

But at last I think I've found him

He's young but he's mature

And you will love him I can tell

He says one day we'll marry

And I don't think I should rush him

But if he gets his skates on

We can have some kids as well

There are lots of things I miss, mum

No-one makes a normal sandwich

You need Goliath's mouth to eat

The ones New Yorkers buy

I long to find a drink

That hasn't got an ice cube in it

And for an English sausage

I swear I would gladly die

Anyway, as I was saying

He just can't sit still a minute

He's not like Neville Braithwaite

This one likes to dance all night

He does a lot of travelling

And when he goes I miss him

For once I think it's safe to say

I'm doing something right.