A mole problem that is becoming an obsession
Yes he who violates my lawn, in his coat as black as coal,
Resplendent in his velvet clothes he tunnels beneath my grass,
If I ever catch him you can bet your boots he'll wish he were never born,
He's dug holes and runs and left mountains of earth over all my lovely estate,
The lawns now look like battlegrounds so I am afraid he has sealed his fate,
I have come up with a most ingenious plan I'll tell you what I've done,
I have booby trapped the entire place with explosives by the ton,
There's TNT and dynamite pushed into every mound and hole,
My obsession: rid the world of Monsieur Taupe, that is my ultimate goal,
Longing to plunge the detonator down my fingers have all gone white and numb,
When I see the slightest movement, I'll laugh out loud and blow him to kingdom come,
But then what is to become of me without my fiendish antagonist,
I'll just sit in the midst of my bombed out lawn quietly getting drunk,
I'll enjoy a bottle of Cote du Rhone a Merlot or even a Sauvignon,
Savouring through the cordite haze the fact he has finally gone.
*****BOOM*****
******BUT*****
Oh no I can see a new mound appear, look there's another over there,
Please don't tell me he's survived to torment me, 'tis more than I can bear,
Now all his family with all his friends trash my grounds to their hearts content,
But what care I of all the mess? To an asylum I have been sent
Poetry by Albert
Read 1206 times
Written on 2005-12-05 at 18:58
Tags Humour Hopelessness Nature
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Mr Mole Francais
The war is on the lines are drawn the enemy; the dastardly Mr Mole,Yes he who violates my lawn, in his coat as black as coal,
Resplendent in his velvet clothes he tunnels beneath my grass,
If I ever catch him you can bet your boots he'll wish he were never born,
He's dug holes and runs and left mountains of earth over all my lovely estate,
The lawns now look like battlegrounds so I am afraid he has sealed his fate,
I have come up with a most ingenious plan I'll tell you what I've done,
I have booby trapped the entire place with explosives by the ton,
There's TNT and dynamite pushed into every mound and hole,
My obsession: rid the world of Monsieur Taupe, that is my ultimate goal,
Longing to plunge the detonator down my fingers have all gone white and numb,
When I see the slightest movement, I'll laugh out loud and blow him to kingdom come,
But then what is to become of me without my fiendish antagonist,
I'll just sit in the midst of my bombed out lawn quietly getting drunk,
I'll enjoy a bottle of Cote du Rhone a Merlot or even a Sauvignon,
Savouring through the cordite haze the fact he has finally gone.
*****BOOM*****
******BUT*****
Oh no I can see a new mound appear, look there's another over there,
Please don't tell me he's survived to torment me, 'tis more than I can bear,
Now all his family with all his friends trash my grounds to their hearts content,
But what care I of all the mess? To an asylum I have been sent
Poetry by Albert
Read 1206 times
Written on 2005-12-05 at 18:58
Tags Humour Hopelessness Nature
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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