Gambling with Granddad

 

When I was seven

And lucky you see

My Granddad used to call for me

To take me out

For ice-cream and milkshake

But only if we got

That winning break.

We’d make for the bookies

Via the park

And in the smoky tension filled dark

My Granddad read me out the names

Of runners and riders

And I’d play the game

And make my choice

Then the die was cast

And if my pick of the crop

Was fast

And the stripy winning post was passed

We’d head for a treat

Of fries and ice

When you’re seven

It’s extremely nice

‘Not a word to your mum mind,’

Granddad would say

And our secret was safe

For another Saturday.