The Miscellaneous
All and sundry.
I call all and sundry,
And the superfluous,
The people of this country,
And the miscellaneous.
Recognised as ragtag,
Varied and various,
And to those who raise the flag,
Are they miscellaneous?
Some left for real,
It’s hard to know which ones,
Are you the real deal?
Or are you anyone?
Ghosts and silent spectres,
Float around the room,
My board of directors,
Magnified in the gloom.
I miss the kiss and passion,
Lost in lust and love,
Though I know I’ve had my ration,
Things I’m now deprived of.
Now it’s miscellaneous,
Picking up the scraps,
The reasons are extraneous,
Probable or perhaps.
Looking past the language,
The dulcet tone of the song,
A ham and cheese sandwich,
A feast that can’t go wrong.
The mouths say Merry Christmas,
A time they say for us,
Though it’s all about business,
And the miscellaneous.
©
David Rudder
2023
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