Home
Pass me a drink and a
handful of minstrels.
Blithely you said "Treat my house
as if it were your own."
You didn't realise what
you had unleashed with
that simple statement.
That is, until we ate your dog.
Played "Pass The Fish" with
every inhabitant of your aquarium,
Threw your ornamental
chiming clock through
your bay window,
Stomped at least four
malteazers into your
cream carpet,
Wee'd on your prize
geraniums, turning them a
surprising shade of blue.
"Ahh" we said to each other
"Now, That feels like home..."
(The geraniums died the day after we left.)