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Dudley's Jumper

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It started one morning in late September,
Peter had stolen Dud’s inimitable sweater.
Dud came 'round with a log of firewood
To extinguish Pete’s claim to future fatherhood.

In the cold autumn air
He stood at the door,
Knocked there four times
And waited some more.

Peter came home late
And just this he saw:
His partner asleep
On the kitchen floor.

Creeping so softly,
He walked to the mat
And lifted dud up,
Hoisted him onto his back,
Carried him upstairs
And put him to bed,
Softly speaking to Dudley,
These were the words that he said:
"Sorry for taking your jumper, my friend.
I knew you’d be mad and it was to this end
I had to take it, so you’d come back to me.
I barely see you any more, with your new-found celebrity."

Dud snuggled into Pete’s duvet,
Content in his slumber.
Pete pressed his lips softly
above the slant of his eyebrow.

In the evening, Dud woke
With no memory of morn,
Turned over to see Pete
In his jumper, well worn.

It suited the taller man,
He did look quite ravishing.
Dudley sneaked an arm over,
All past anger vanishing.

He snuggled in closer
To his best dearest friend,
And said "Fret no more, Peter.
I’ll be here til the end."