Another disastrous relation bites the dust:
A Gourmet's Unhappy End
My lamented cousin Herbert
was a gourmet, fond of turbot.
And other fish? He would try 'em,
He'd gut and clean and then he'd fry 'em.
He adored fresh veg in season,
which he thought the perfect reason
to cultivate a garden patch
and complement the fisherman's catch.
It seemed, at first, he would succeed,
his crops supplied his every need.
His table groaned beneath the weight
of what he piled upon his plate.
Of course, he grew quite fat, I fear.
His chins wobbled from ear to ear.
Then one day, to his frustration,
there came an aphid infestation.
The dreaded plague of small green flies
began to spread before his eyes.
He tried a spray of soapy water.
Plants wilted still, despite the slaughter.
They faded, looking sick and pale.
He saw that his whole crop might fail.
and, falling into dark despair,
he took to drink to ease his cares.
He wrote to Gardeners' Question Time.
They said, "why not dig in some lime?"
His vegetables rotted from the roots,
- they'd meant the mineral, not the fruits.
He sat and sulked within the shed,
Where he was known to keep, it's said,
his stock of weed-killer and drink.
He made a mistake, that's what we think.
He lay, a bottle in his hand,
an accident, we understand.
Alas, my cousin, Herbert, died.
The inquest's verdict? ... Herbicide.
© Wilkie Martin 2010
http://www.wilkiemartin.com
lol
melancope 8 months ago
Made oi larf.
PulsarPoet 1 year ago
Very funny. Love the hat!
ElmoreLeopard 1 year ago
Another winner!
RaineyGay 1 year ago