Okay, due to the mysterious disappearance of Watercats (and despite what some people are insinuating, it is a complete mystery to me) the Poetry Bus is veering wildly out of control up hill and down dale. The very brave NanU has gallantly dived into the drivers seat and is at this very moment trying to wrest back control and stop it hurtling over the edge of the precipice into oblivion.
Meanwhile, prospective passengers are scratching their heads, comparing tickets and wondering what kind of bumpy ride we're in for. I opted to go for the happiness option...
My wife was ensconced in the kitchen,
Preparing the food as required,
When she slipped on a rogue slice of onion,
Walloped her head and expired.
I admit I was quite disappointed
That she died with abruptness and violence,
For I had to finish the dinner myself.
But oh, what a beautiful silence!
For thirty five years we’d been married
And I’d taken it all on the chin.
We’d never had a single argument for
I never could get a word in.
I dream of her face in the night time,
The way that her hips used to wiggle.
And sometimes it all gets too much for me,
And I simply just break down and giggle.
The pawnbroker’s got all her jewellery,
And I got a job lot on her shoes.
I got offers for all her fine dresses,
Sure, it would have looked bad to refuse.
I’m surprised just how well I am coping -
With all of the pain and fatigue
And I wish I could go to the funeral, but
We’re playing Finn Harps in the League.
Now I'm going to make sure that aquatic feline is still firmly trussed up in my cellar...