There he stood from a distance,
below at the end of the bench.
With claws upright with a Godzilla style clench.
Me supping coffee, threw him smirky frown.
In a park in london in the centre of town.

Wants me to sup up? Claws still up,
am I near his nuts, or is he playing around.
Waiting no longer he scurries across.
His acorn surprise ,back to base , with no loss of face
he looks up to show me whos boss.

He grapples proficiently up the tree.
He finds a nook homely hole,of desirability.
Looking down at me from his high chair,
in this park in Red lion square.
I glare up he chews confident,secure,he digests more.

He looks over- as if to say. "your alright mate don`t worry about your fate."
Lunch break over; heck i`m late!
I hope that bastard foreman,
shuts his unplesant unsocable face!