Beware the crooked billet

 

He’d passed his tests, he’d made the grade

He’d got his just rewards

First-class degree from Cambridge

His future was assured

 

He’d had his farewell party

And took a little glass

Maybe one too many

As was his trait alas

 

He’d had his farewell party

And drunk with gusto, and vim

He’d drank the Dean under t’table

And wiped the floor with him

 

The life and soul of the party

As schooner followed pint-pot

They toasted his bright new future

The man who’d have the lot

 

The life and soul of the party

Though he flagged as the evening progressed

A young man’s constitution

Is delicate….   At best

 

But that was last night, and today is today

He was feeling more subdued

In the cold harsh light of the morning

He craved for solitude

 

He cherished that hair of the dog

But wanted to drink it alone

To clear his thoughts, and re-set his mind

He needed to be on his own

 

Sometimes a man wants company

To be with his fellow men

But other times he wants solitude

And just wants to sit by him sen

 

He took a sip from his pint-pot

As though he was drinking hot lead

The curse of the morning after

And the thunder that pounded his head

 

He considered his bright future

And his chosen career in science

Relativity and quantum physics  

Which made for a strange alliance

 

He sat there alone, in a near-empty pub

When a stranger entered the bar

An old man approaching his eightieth year

Who captured his eye from afar

 

But the scholar wanted his solitude

So he tried not to contact his eye

But there was something familiar about this codger

Something he couldn’t pass by

 

The bar was nigh on empty

So the scholar considered it rude

When the codger sat down beside him

When he wanted his solitude

 

“Mind if I sit here?” he asked

In a manner that wouldn’t take “no”

And though the scholar was taken aback

He couldn’t just ask him to go

 

“I knew I’d find you here” said the codger

Removing his coat, as he sat

A solemn insistence dulled his eye

As he took off his scarf and his hat

 

“I knew I’d find you here” he said

“At this time, on this very morning”

“Believe it or not, I’ve come from the future”

“I’ve come back, to give you a warning”

 

“I’ve come from the future” the old man said

Without irony, in a tone so sincere

“I’ve come back to give you a warning” he said

“And I knew that I’d find you just here”

 

Now the scholar was a man of science

Quantum physics being his schtick

He debunked time-travelling notions

That were contra to common lo-gick

 

But he listened as the codger went on

There was something about this old guy

There was urgency in the way that he spoke

And sincerity in his dull eye

 

The old man’s hand shook as he sipped on his pint

In an effort not to spill it

Then he grabbed the scholars arm, and said

“Beware the Crooked Billet!”

 

 

“Don’t go to the Crooked Billet” he said

“Promise me… never go there”

“Your future is bright, your future is set”

“But I’ve come back to warn you… beware!!”

 

 

“Take this key”… the old man said

“Believe me… you’ll need it one day”

“Always carry it with you”

“It will save your life I dare say”

 

The scholar debunked time travelling notions

Which as far as he was concerned

Were physically impossible

And contra to all that he’d learned

 

Yet he sat in silence as the old man spoke

Enthralled by his urgent tone

And he listened to his hogwash and bunkum

Though he’d much sooner sit on his own

 

“You’ll meet many good people” the old man said

“On most you can usually depend”

“But I’ve come back to give you a warning” he said

“Be careful just who you befriend”

 

“Steer clear of the Crooked Billet!!”

“For reasons which I cannot say”

“Keep this key about your person”

“Because you will need it one day

 

In fifty years, when you’re old and tired

You’ll know just what to do

Come back to this time and place

And give the key to the former you