598 - In aYork hotel bedroom

In York again for a tax conference
Sudden rain shower, hid in a café
The work done, I relax; well, in a sense,
Because there’s still some work of sonnetary
Nature to do that can’t be shirked. Here’s me
Sat on the edge of this large hotel bed,
Writing on hotel pad these pencilly
Remarks that pad out what is to be said
In my diary, this one that’s later fed
Into the internet. While I’ve still sense,
Before the drinks begin, I must first say
My fourteen lines (at least not a hundred).
I shall return after maybe immense
Amounts of booze and grub…well, hopefully.
Thur 24 Apr 2008