The Postman

Hey-Ho. Another day another dollar. With a packet full of post, here we go. Up the hill and here we are. Postcard for Mrs Riggs, in her smart old house. Daughter (very cute) in Spain. Having a good time she writes. Weather fine, wishes we were there, (down boy, down). Nothing for Mr Potts (not for the first time, hee hee), baby screaming from an open window as we pedal past. Another flat brown letter for Mr Cross. Nothing today for Mr Fats. And old Mrs Letts, her house is quiet again (she shouldn't have screamed). Onto young Miss Junes, in her bungalow, no post for her. Peer through the curtains (hurrah for downstairs bedrooms), but nothing to see today. Then on past Colonel Sparks, nothing for him, but oh how his eyes bore into our back as we pedal away. And back down the hill. Wheeee!

Hey-ho. Another day, another dollar. With a packet full of post, here we go. Up the hill and here we are. Nothing for Mrs Riggs, (hurry home sweet Josephine). Mr Potts, at his door, teething baby in his arms, does it look like you Mr Potts? I think not. Flat brown envelope for Mr Cross. Brown envelope for Mr Fats, bulge in this one. A quick feel, a quick little tear. Oh no, naughty Mr Fats! Nothing for Mrs Letts, never will be if you ask us. Ah here we are, Miss Junes at last. Movement through the lace curtains (ah, divine). And on to Colonel Sparks, nothing again, but oh that stare. If looks could kill. And down the hill. Wheeee!

Hey-Ho. Another day another dollar. With a packet full of post, here we go. Up the hill and here we are. Nothing for Mrs Riggs. Parcel for Mr Potts. What can it be. Paternity test perhaps? Flat brown envelope for Mr Cross. Nothing for Mr Fats (must be tired today). Mrs Letts, flies in your windows, oh dear, not a good sign. Hurry past. White (pure of course) envelope for Miss June, her door is ajar, oh wonder of wonders. Lets go in and have some fun, (yippee)... Now we are late. Packet of seeds for Colonel Spark (We don't need them now do we) staring at me as he always does. And back down the hill. Wheeee!

Hey-Ho. Another day another dollar. With a packet full of post, here we go. Up the hill and here we are. Nothing for Mrs Riggs. Nothing for Mr Potts. But I can see the blue lights. Flat brown envelope for Mr Cross, throw it (I need to hurry). Nothing for Mr Fats. More flies for Mrs Letts, many more, oh deary me. Staring at me from Miss Junes, are the boys in blue, so we pedal past, but now they are shouting at me (faster pedals, faster!). Out of the way Colonel Sparks, out the way. And back down the hill. Wheeee!

30 Aug 2009
silvercoat