Prison Camp Mirage

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Prison Camp Mirage


Sydney Huimphreys



"I fancy some caviar, Jeeves," I said,

"I've really gone off the smoked salmon,

And I can't face the 'pate de fois gras' instead,

It's more of a bore than the gammon.


"A touch of chilled vodka, Jeeves, I suggest

Enhances the caviar, gives it a bite,

And served with a Chablis - yes, that might be best

To sharpen the edge of my dull appetite.


'I'm tempted to follow with venison steak.

Or the duck a 1' orange with diced carrot,

Or would you suggest a Savannah clambake'?

But no, that won't go with the claret."


Jeeves understands that my tastes are quite plain.

I can do without luxuries; I've no time for greed,

A Havanna or two, the odd glass of champagne,

The simplest of things are all that I need.


But Jeeves started shaking his greying groomed head

And his face was fading from view.

A bloke from the cookhouse stood there instead

Saying "Hey there! Get in the queue!"


"My name is Bert Reeves, and I ain't seen no Jeeves,

And the venison's all been dished out.

Theres only some rice and a stew of green leaves.

If you don't grab it quick you'll get nowt.




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