an easy smile with a gentle voice
asks "would you like a drink sir?"
I suddenly realise the benefits of middle age
and greying hair
a little respect at last
albeit compulsory
"I would" I reply
but I leave her waiting for my choice
"a gin and tonic please, heavy on gin and light on tonic."
she serves it within a fragile plastic cup
which she rocks with ice
then within my pressurised world
within my little life
that hurtles towards Berlin
my perfect gin
lubricates a weary mind
and makes a hard landing
very smooth indeed
