It’s all finished, April is gone.
With other poets I’ve padded on.
I’ve had a chew and I’ve had fun.
Now I must run, our PAD is done.
Of vegetables I have written,
told of damage to a machine,
told a secret, honest I’ve been
in admission, confessed a sin.
Told of pigeons who annoy me,
of Auntie from across the sea,
puzzled about the mystery
of black in my white history.
I’ve said there’s no art or science
can beget my accweescence.
It’s my natural resistance
to authority, my defiance.
I’ve been besmirched, my tail has sagged.
Apologised, I’ve even nagged
when in season off I was dragged.
to be doctored. My tail still wagged.
I’ve spoken words coined by our bard,
shown how I’ve dared to swing the lead,
shown the boss just how much I’ve cared,
looked back and aired moments we’ve shared.
My departure’s well overdue.
I’m away to bury my chew.
I have to say farewell to you:
I hate goodbye, I’ll say adieu.