Ode poštar u penziju

Once I had a friend, a dear one,at the post, who'd never lag;good, hard-working, he would dragall day long a heavy bag.

When he came up to my doorstep,it would make me very glad;more so when he brought a letter:how it warmed the heart I had!

Now he's off into retirement,trust me, I'm as glad as he;life will now be easier for him,not the drudge it used to be.

No more hunting for house numbers,nor the dogs that bark and bay,nor go searching for the right spotwhere a parcel's safe to stay.

And the pension you'll be drawing,never mind how much it pays;what's important, my old friend, isthat it lasts for all your days.