Christopher Robin's Party Animals


There are bottles and fag ends and litter

and thistles and owl pellets too:

the house is in need of a clean up

which Nanny refuses to do.

And Piglet is still feeling fragile

while Pooh’s in a comatose snooze.

So it’s me who is stuck with the housework

after the party at Pooh’s.


There’s honey all over the sofa

and vol au vents blocking the loo.

But clearing up mess while hung over

is the last thing they’re able to do.

It is somebody’s turn, says the rota,

but a wine stain has covered up whose.

So I am the one in the hot seat

after the party at Pooh’s.


The forest is quiet and deserted.

Last night was one hell of a do.

Eeyore and Tigger are missing

and there’s no sign of Kanga and Roo;

and Wol can’t do more than just mumble

some drunken To-Wits and To-Woos.

So I’ve no hope of any assistance

after the party at Pooh’s . . . .


But over the years the thought struck me

that, with adulthood long overdue,

it was time that I cleared out my Nursery

though its memories would cling on like glue.

So the faithful old friends of my childhood

were sent off to museums and zoos.

But though I'm now spared all the housework

I still miss those parties at Pooh’s.


from The Wrong Ancient Mariner.

publ. Grosvenor House Press, 2023.