One of my rhymed offerings for the Torrevieja Writers´Circle
Last week ma made faggots for grandad
Mushy peas and thick gravy – a treat
But it just doesn´t suit grandad´s innards
During Corry he shot to his feet.
The lav´s down the yard and he doesn´t walk fast
And his zimmer frame hasn´t got wheels
So he made for the room at the end of the hall
Where he lies on the couch after meals.
He got to the hatstand and started to cramp
But he clenched and he gritted his teeth
If he could just make it the commode was in there
On loan from the council in Leith.
He lifted the lid, sat down and let fly
And breathed a great sigh of relief
Then he saw the commode by the window
And tensed up in chill disbelief.
He was next to ma´s upright piano
It really was too cruel
Sheet music lay all around him
Where he slumped on the old music stool.
No comments:
Post a Comment