Snow Business

A drop of shnow.

On Eagle Hill,

The snow doth fall,

To the summit we trekked,

With coal bags and all.

Twelve years young,

No better place to go,

A crew assembled,

Shock, Sparky and co.

A slide we constructed,

No TikTok in sight,

Better craic without it,

Social media is pure shite.

Podge Smith loathed the snow,

No better man to moan,

In fairness couldn't blame him,

He broke his arse bone.

As the evening set in,

Main Street we did roam,

Poor Podge slipped twice,

Fuck that boys I'm going home.

Flung snowballs at the masses,

The whole nine yards,

One auld lad got thick,

Relax man don't call the guards!

A decade later,

The snow doth returned,

Different is the destination,

A few pints we now yearned.

Twenty something years young,

No longer in school,

A crew assembled,

Each on a high stool.

Lad put away that phone,

Or you can take a hike,

Taking pics since you got here,

We know what a pint looks like.

United match is on Sky tonight,

Weather status is red,

Storm is bad in the UK too,

Will it even go ahead?

Several stouts later,

Getting home we must arrange,

Podge slips outside the pub,

Some things never change.