Poem Title : The Auction (Year 3) 060
Written 16/6/2007

The following year it was wet in the yard,
Sales were flat,there was no money about,
Old lots cluttered and stacked there with doubt,
From Antiques,the market , for sure had dropped out.
The Auctioneers banter this year it was missing,
His rent was unpaid and his children were crying,
Not like the old days,things were bouyant and flying,
I can still remember the Americans buying !