The usual trip to a country pub
requires the eyes and sense of Mr Bingham,
He sees people come and go
and with just a look of his eyes
settles everyone down
and draws out their good manners,
We seem to have lost this type of character for now
but in time just like always,
they come back in a new disguise,
Mr Bingham's reluctant eyes scan the room for anything amiss.
Mr Bingham is holding court,
And settles by his bar,
He does this for hundreds of hours,
And so knows the measure of how far.
He will let the people behave,
Before his eyes pour scorn,
And a loss of face by the drinkers,
Will cause a temporary mourn.
Up above his empire,
Lies his bed and sleep,
Wanting, wanting holding,
The dreams of being neat.
7th May 2019