' ' ' ' But When The Moonlight Flits!

Bored we play with the password. “Halt! ” “Who goes there! ” “Rag..! ” I challenge. “...order! ” comes the counter challenge. So many stars it looks like night could shatter & fall back into day with the littlest of tinkles. I, on sentry duty this bitterest of nights no different perhaps from sentries over the centuries from Thermopile to the Battle of the Somme. “Piss on yer hands! ” The old one’s laugh “it will keep ‘em warm ...for as long as you piss! ” “Drink lots & lots of tea before going on sentry! ” The stars twinkle innocent as nursery rhymes. But shhhhh...listen! Something wicked this way comes! Ah, these footsteps are my friend’s. I know him by the creak in his left boot (always the drag on that left foot) his breathing a little wheezy. “Halt! ” I shout over the top because I know it’s him. “Who goes there? ” I threaten almost frightening myself. Then I declaim our concocted password. “I love you in your dress! ” “I love you in your nightie! ” “But when...” I wait for him to sing the comeback line. “But when... the moonlight flits across your tits ...by Christ all fucking mighty! ” Out of the silence comes my friend’s bashful grin And the duty officer’s startled voice: “My God man...are you alright! ” ******** These were some of the other passwords! Here’s to the gentle breezes That blow around the treeses & blows girl’s skirtses above their kneezes & reveal the places all men pleases. Be Jeezus! Be Jeezus! But tho’ the Devil sends his wind to make girl’s skirts rise God is just & sends the dust to blow in the bad boyses eyeses. Always tidy always neat She made things stand that never had feet!