Nonsense poem commemorating Uncle Hedley's sad demise in the garden.
Note Uncle H's ectoplasmic orb in the bottom right of the screen at about 47 seconds in. He is making a bee line for my wine - he always loved a tipple.
For Uncle Hedley, in memoriam
Garden plants, though seldom deadly,
did for my poor Uncle Hedley,
who, taking time to sniff the rose,
sucked a bumble bee up his nose.
Although it did not sting, it buzzed
and Uncle Hedley raged and cussed.
The tingling made him sneeze and cough,
which caused his glasses to drop off.
He knelt to find them, full of wrath,
and found them shattered on the path.
He picked them up but cut his thumb
and full of fury blamed his mum,
his father, grandparents and kin,
whod passed these defects on to him;
- short sight, gout and haemophilia,
some of which can surely kill ya.
As blood poured out upon the lawn,
he thought of those who'd shortly mourn
for him. What a sad disaster!
Then remembered sticking plaster.
He stumbled to the house quite fast,
his mind set on Elastoplast
but, limping through the garden peas,
his Levis dropped about his knees.
He tripped and fell among the beans,
while damning his defective jeans.
And yet, it was his allergy
to pollen caused fatality.
Hay-fevered eyes could see no shed,
he stumbled in and banged his head,
stood on a rake upon the floor
and knocked himself right through the door.
He stamped and swore - he was manic,
no decorum in his panic.
Running blind can be a gamble,
Thus, he fell into the bramble.
Stuck fast there, he felt such a prick
from all the thorns, pierced to the quick.
Thats how Uncle Hedley ended,
in a bramble bush, suspended.
© Wilkie Martin 2010
http://www.wilkiemartin.com
Poor Uncle Hedley. He didn't have much luck, did he?
ElmoreLeopard 1 year ago
@ElmoreLeopard No he didn't. He is just one of a series of relative who meet disastrous ends.
wilkiewrites 1 year ago