When the vicar’s daughter lost her frock
The whole parish received a great shock,
But ’twas found in my house
By the good vicar’s noble spouse,
Whilst drunk on the bishop’s fine hock!
In the chaos
Of our dreams
We experience a loss
Of the control
That we, in waking hours maintain
And the oh so fragile pane,
Shatters, revealing our soul.
‘Tis good that none but we
Can see
How our consciousness streams,
Out of control, in dreams.
The tombstones look back at me
And will continue to be,
When I can no longer see.
A young lady who comes from Ealing
Is fond of trampolining.
At dead of night
I received a fright,
When she jumped right through my ceiling!
As I strolled home late last night
A young lady under a red light
Said, whilst smiling provocatively at me,
“Are you looking for some company?”,
And the stars they shone very bright!
When a young lady dressed as a smarty
Said, “I’ve come about the party”,
And I replied, “Conservative or Labour?”,
She said, “I am your neighbour,
And I’m inviting you to our swingers party!”.
I recently went to a party
Attended by the great literati,
Where a poetess named Bess
Took off her new dress,
Don’t worry, it was really quite arty
