Sunday Lie In Poem by Thomas Golding

'Get him out, ' Mum said
ten am on Sunday and it's time
three nephews and two nieces
never needed much urging
Gloria and Cheryl often crept in
on their own to sleep
three heads on the pillow
until Mum sent the baboons
to roust us out
I recall many times waking
to blue eyes and giggles
my bed infested with brats
trusting arms around
or sleeping peacefully
it wouldn't be wise
or politically correct
for Uncles or even Fathers
and especially Grandfathers
in these enlightened days.