Bodger And The Lodger
Poem By George Savige
A man who with us used to stay,
Would come home drunk from day to day.
He'd hide a bottle under ground.
Thought he, 'that bottle won't be found.'
He'd step away toward the door,
And then go back for one sip more.
Three more times, it's getting late,
One more sip will have to wait.
And then one day he did the same.
One Monday morning down he came.
With bottle hid he walked away,
My father saw him on that day.
And said to mum and eldest daughter,
'Let's fill it with some salt and water.'
The bottle filled, then back it went,
Then down he came, that funny gent.
He looked around, then dug it up,
Another look, then bottoms up.
He drank the lot was plain to see,
Then rushing up to dad and me.
He said, 'that bottle cost a fiver,
You'd think a man's a deep sea diver.'
Said my dad, 'I warned you friend,
That your drink would have to end.
You'll have to stop upon this day,
Or find another place to stay.'
He said, 'I've finished drinking Bodger,
I want to stay, and be your lodger.
But if I come home drunk again,
Just hose me down like pouring rain.'
Time went by and all was well.
Then one day, poor Lyndsay fell.
Dad was in the garden square,
Hose in hand, he stopped to stare.
There stood Lyndsay like a clown,
Saying, 'Bodger, hose me down.'
And as I think I see him yet,
Standing there and getting wet.
I often wonder where he went,
That kindly funny Lyndsay gent.
I cannot see him past that day.
Perhaps that's when he went away.