No Lancelot - Poem by Andy Brookes
Come on he shouted
As he barreled through the crowd.
Revving his mobility scooter.
Charging at us this grumpy knight,
Armour some what tarnished,
Riding his motorised steed.
How dare we impede his progress
His face red with anger.
No respect for the old he yelled
Choose, he roared, life or death
Scattering folk left and right
Like a flock of pigeons.
Waving at us as he left us in his wake, he rode off.
How rude a woman next to me said
Nods of agreement from the rest of the flock
Feathers ruffled clicking their disapproval
I sneakingly admired him
Feisty old bugger I thought
As I continued on my way.
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