How was he going to tell them? After all this time there are still loyalties and feelings to be considered. Umm. Aha! Jehovah Witnesses object to blood transfusion. He could say he was joining them. No he'd just have to say it straight and get out without discussion.

As he walked slowly away from the mobile transfusion service van the shock began to wear off: So that's the last time then. Part of his life switched off by remote control. No wonder the staff wouldn't look him in the face. Yes perhaps he was feeling his age - but he'd put that pint tankard to good use right now - and some!

A few weeks in the lives of two well educated but 'drifting' men in their early twenties reveals hidden pasts and troublesome relationships with women that they attempt to sort out with the good humour of good friendship. We see them discover things about themselves and mature in response to unexpected happenings.

The entertaining story is told by conversation between just the two characters themselves at their frequent meetings. Chuckle at bizarre situations and reflect on deeper relationships.

What is the currency of friendship?

C is circadian that happens each day
D is diurnal - that's twice the same way

E is for eons stretching back into the past
F is for future which comes up so fast

G is for geology that freezes time in a rock
H is for hours and hands on the clock

I is for instant you have in a cup
J is Jurassic whose bones are dug up

K is for killing time when we have too much free
L is longueur and depressing ennui

M is for Meetings - how they stretch so
N is for Now. (But on we must go)

O is for older - how we all get
P is a pause that lets us reflect

Q is for how quickly our life runs its course
R is regrets and sometimes remorse

S is the second time we call "Deja vu"
T is those things I promised to do

U is unknowns the future will bring
V is vacation we take in the spring

W is waiting for trains that don't go
X is express which is often so slow

Y is for year as we measure a date
Z is for Zzzzz as it's now very late.

I went to the bureaucrats and asked them for courage
They said it was too difficult to define
(Shame they had their own agenda.)
So they couldn't help me.

I went to the government and asked them for courage
They said it was not their fault
(Shame they wouldn't address the issue.)
So they couldn't help me.

I went to the media and asked them for courage
They said they did invent heroes, but didn't supply courage
(Shame they only deal in base emotions.)
So they couldn't help me.

I went to the people and asked them for courage
They only had apathy and anger
(Shame they are cowards of convenience.)
So they couldn't help me.

I went to myself and asked for courage
And found it
(Shame as I was
shunned by the shop keepers,
blocked by bureaucrats,
arrested by the government,
pilloried by the media, and
ignored by the people)
So that wasn't much help.

I need young men the prophet said
I need a man to spread the word
I want our message to be heard
Take courage and address the crowd
Tell them your story strong and loud
Call me a god and soon my son
They'll all call you the blessed one
Too soon for one but not for some the teaching gets across
So another tortured brother hangs broken on a cross

I need young men the skipper said
I need a man who has no fear
To earn good money hauling gear
Wrestling wet nets is for the brave
Who laugh out loud at wind and wave
The sparkling sea. The silver shoals
Is better far than digging coals
A job for life with gutting knife is short upon the seas of grey
A black wave licks aboard the decks to take another man away

I need young men the sergeant said
I need a man who's fit and bright
Who's not afraid to stand and fight
Show off your smart new uniform
To thrill the dull folk left at home
So as your country calls for you
Be proud to do what you must do
Now in a trench a soldier sleeps to waken nevermore
A monument to martial dreams and what not to die for

I go away to reenactments
You know - like the old Sealed Knot
It's great fun to have a good fight
And fills a need that I've got

I thought about Celts and the Romans
And tried some Saxon and Viking
The Civil war was just a big bore
Then I found something more to my liking

I've joined the Old Testament Horde
We enact scenes from out of the Bible
We've Nebuchadnezzar and pharos
Engaging in battles most tribal

But slingshots and shields in a sandpit
Are not what we like to do most
Our favourite battle 's in heaven
As the bad angels get turfed out of the host

I'm on the side of the devils
We have weapons and many rough moves
The get-up is really quite frightening
Though I do wish we didn't wear hooves

I wouldn't like being an angel
So pure, humble and meek
All that they do if you hit them
Is offer you their other cheek

I have been laid out by a harp.
Oh so 'accidentally' of course!
And the thing that made me most mad
Was the angel's girly remorse

After the battle is over
In civvies we go for some grub
Angels and devils together
Drinking away in a pub

Some lovely people you meet there
I've got my eye on a cherub
She's not that pure I can tell you
Tonight I'll be her Beelzebub

So it's back to the office on Monday
After a weekend of mad sex in a tent...
...Sad to say it was all just a daydream
One of the many I have to invent.

Galloping forwards all the time thinks each rider on their journey
Their mates are careering up and down, remaining all in company
They can not stay upon this ride. Too soon the slowing-down will come
The humming of the drive reduced until their journey will be done.
Others will soon take their places. They'll look back on those to come.
And now I think our parents knew: Doing their best to give us fun.
The organ's breath brings back my youth. This evening has a special sound
From my chair it's good to watch the generations coming round.

Not a popple on the water on this still night on my journey
Just the chuckle of my bow wave is all I have for company
Plops and ripples gently stretching
Mark the restless dreams of salmon
The forest's smell comes out to me
A darker breath of mystery
I must not pause on my errand to her family in their harbour

As the light comes off the water I see her skin like red copper.
Travelling with me by my paddle her deep dark eyes draw me under
Spirit vision clinging to me
Gazing at me in my hurry
Is she asking me to join her?
Or to speed me to her father
who needs to know of her passing from her family in their harbour

High above me shining strongly the silver moon commands the scene
Ghostly strands are sent to catch me as white-tressed mist flows in a stream
Cold clutching hands of spirit air
Blur my resolve with sharp despair
Defying them I must press on
I must arrive before the dawn
I must make haste with my message for her family in their harbour

At early dawn the aching brave finds the inlet and the harbour
He grounds his boat upon the beach and rests a moment from his labour
Feet firmly spread he breathes in long
The spirit of this place is strong
This stony shore is a gateway
To a wealth of tribal history
Ancient customs still enacted by the family in this harbour

As the rocks reduce to rubble and the current removes the sand
The spirit of the place recalls the things that happened on this land
From the very early hunter
Who soon turned into a settler
Starving, warring, growing, crying
Generations born and dying
before the memory of the tribe of the family in this harbour

The news of death is not new. Still it's shocking for her father
He takes a minute to recall how he used to hear her laughter
How she'd play with toys he'd made her
How she'd tease the boys for ever
Sadness seems to come from pleasure
Loss of beauty that you treasure
Now she's gone to join her mother and her family in their harbour

Son come with me and let us walk along the shore to greet the day
You have hastened through the dark night to bring what would come anyway
As we share a wife and daughter
Every harbour shares the water
To think of kin across the lake
Is not a voyage you had to make
With your errand you have brought strength to our families in their harbours

Backbone ripples of busy beaver arrowing my homeward trackway
I'm now at peace, my errand done. People and place in harmony
An owl calls out. It calls my name
Unexpected, and now again
She follows me among the trees
I know it's her. She's now at ease
Flying freely. Calling clearly. To our family in our harbours

POSTSCRIPT
My apartment in the city grows so dark now she's not here
I must escape when she's buried from this lifeless box of despair
I have no lake nor moon as guide
No forest voice to call and glide
No owls call in the city's scope
And I am left alone to cope.
Our wandering ghosts will have no home. There's no family and no harbour.

The first braggart knight did take the field.
A kid goat from a farm was stealed
As tasty bait to tempt it out
So the knight might have his bout.
The worm breathed oily gouts of fire
Which turned the knight into a pyre.
Then huge blasts of steam so hot
Boiled that knight inside his pot.

A monk came to the second knight
And pleaded he should take flight.
"Don't stay here and our peace disrupt
else angry will the worm erupt."
"Stop farting from your stupid mouth
Or I'll whip you by God's truth.
Your stinking carcass will not thwart
My manly right to noble sport."
Enraged to hear the knight so swear
The dragon launched into the air.
A humming zzzzt and then a flash
Turned that knight to dusty ash.

That left two full of vainglory
Who would battle with their quarry.
The next would tempt it with more meat
And lunge when it came out to eat.
He spied a ploughman's nice fat ox
So did the peasant's head he box
And bruise the villein just for fun
Until his last breath had been done.
Out of its nest the dragon came
but it was wise and knew the game,
He left the ox and fixed the man
As faster than the wind it ran.
Huge scaley feet with claws did pound
And crush the knight into the ground.

The peasant's daughter came to see
What all the thundering noise could be.
On finding there her father dead
while all around his blood lay red
She screamed and cried and tore her hair
Then gently knelt and said a prayer.
The final knight his heart was black,
No shred of evil did he lack.
Did dragons not on women feed?
This pretty girl would fill his need!
With spite he turned an evil trick
And raped that poor young maid so quick.
Deflowered, the girl was staked as bait,
It was not long he had to wait
Before the dragon came to fight
and suffocate this evil knight
With stench of sulfur, cat and tin
Black spit raised blisters on his skin.
He could not breathe. In pain he died
Then liquified from his inside.
When the last of the scum had drained
Only the dragon there remained

Tied firmly to a tree with rope
The helpless maid had no more hope.
Slowly towards her came the beast
But his intent was not a feast.
His scaly head lay on her breast
as a dog whines to be fussed
His golden eyes were full of tears.
She stroked his head and calmed his fears
Now kissed him gently on the nose –
In front of her a prince there rose!

"I was once a braggart princeling
Cursed to vanish for my sinning.
To be a monster was my fate
Lurking always out of sight."

What happened then I do not know
It was so very long ago.
Now do not seek to please your anger
For there always is a danger
You'll draw your dragon from its nest
And lose all which you love the best.