Cider D.Ts

When we moved from Wiltshire to Somerset many, many years ago this small village seemed quaintly behind the times. In particular the old thatched pub The Red Lion Inn. (This still looks old but is very much up to date and serves exellent food.)
The drink of choice for farm workers was scrumpy (very rough cider.) Some of them took bottles of the stuff to drink with their lunch. This sometimes caused quite drastic results.
So this poem.
Cider D.Ts.

He thought he saw an elephant walking on the wall,
Jumbo looked a bit unsteady as if heading for a fall.
Then came a tiger hanging on his tail
The tiger had had a few so he looked rather frail.

A large white rabbit came behind, then a small brown donkey,
Behind these were a camel and a funny little monkey.
The jumbo sprouted wings and flew, the others quickly followed
It was then the old chap knew it was all the booze he'd swallowed.

The moral of this story is don't drink too much cider.

Jill West.