[rockychris]

Was looking for some paper work the other day (which was needed for my course). I came across 2 pieces of paper. Can't remember where on earth I got them from, but thought I would like to share with you.

THE COOKS REVENGE

IT WAS JUST A HARMLESS LITTLE JOKE, IT DIDN'T WOUND OR HARM.
THOUGH I HAVE TO SAY, I'LL NEVER TRY THE LIKES OF IT AGAIN
INTENDING TO JAZZ UP THE COOK, I CAUGHT A JOEY ROO,
THE THUNDER-BOX HAD IRON WALLS, WHICH THE ROO JUST BOUNCED AROUND
THE YELLS AND SCREAMS THAT SPLIT THE AIR, WERE STOMACH SPLITING SOUNDS
THE PRANK WAS SOON FORGOTTEN, TILL I ATE SOME CURRIED STEW,
THAT THE COOK HAD LACED WITH EPSON SALTS, IN PAYMENT FOR THE LOO
WELL, IT GOT MY BOWELS A BOILING, WHILE TASTING QUITE BENIGN
AND HAD ME RUSHING T'WARD THE LOO, IN NEXT TO NOTHING TIME
THE PRESSURE OF THE MOMENT, MADE ME WALK A LITTLE TIGHT
WHILE I TRIED TO ACT UNHURRIED, JUST TO CURB THE COOKS DELIGHT
I COULD HAVE SWORN I FELT A SEEPAGE, THE PRELUDE TO A FLOOD.
MY TEETH WERE CLENCHED IN GRIM RESOLVE, MY PORES WERE SWEATING BLOOD
MY LEGS WERE TWINED LIKE RUBBER-VINE, BY BROW WAS COLD AND DAMP
MY CHEEKS WERE GRIPPED BY RIGOR-MORTIS, LOCKED IN FEAR AND CRAMP
THE DICTATES OF MY POSTURE MEANT A CRABBING SHUFFLED GAIT,
AND I PRAYED WITH PROGRESS SHOWING, THAT I WOULDN'T BE TOO LATE
WHEN I FINALLY REACHED THE DUNNY, THERE WERE HORRORS STILL IN STORE
THE COOK, WITH WRETCHED HUMOUR, HAD JAMMED THE BLOODY DOOR
THE NEATLY DRIVEN THREE INCH SPIKES, SCREWED IN THROUGH DOOR AND FRAME
WERE CALCULATED TO INFLICT MORE PUNISHMENT AND SHAME
WELL I DIDN'T EVEN HESITATE, I WOULDN'T BE DENIED
I PUT MY SHOULDER TO THE BOARDS, RELIEF WAS JUST INSIDE
NO TWISTED MIND WOULD DO ME IN, I'D BEAT THE BUGGER YET
AND I PRAYED THE TRICKLE DOWN MY LEG WAS NOTHING MORE THAN SWEAT
BEFORE MY DESPERATE ONSLAUGHT, THE TIMBER BURST APART
TO REVEAL A WAITING WOODEN THRONE, A SIGHT TO WARM THE HEART
BUT THE COOKS REVENGE COMPOUNDED, IT WASN'T JUST OR RIGHT
THE VINDICTIVE LITTLE VIXEN HAD SCREWED THE LID DOWN TIGHT


A LITTLE MIXED UP

JUST A LINE TO SAY I'M LIVING. THAT I'M NOT AMONG THE DEAD
THOUGH I'M GETTING MORE FORGETFUL AND MIXED UP IN THE HEAD
I'VE GOT USED TO MY ARTHRITIS, TO MY DENTURES I'VE RESIGNED
I CAN MANAGE MY BIFOCALS, BUT OH DEAR I MISS MY MIND
SOMETIMES I CAN'T REMEMBER WHILE STANDING NEAR THE STAIR
IF MUST GO UP FOR SOMETHING, OR I'VE JUST COME DOWN FROM THERE
AND BEFORE THE FRIDGE SO OFTEN, MY POOR MIND IS FULL OF DOUBT
HAVE I JUST PUT FOOD AWAY, OR HAVE I COME TO TAKE SOME OUT
AND THERE'S TIMES WHEN IT IS DARK, WITH NIGHTCAP ON MY HEAD
I DON'T KNOW IF I AM RETURNING OR JUST GETTING OUT OF BED
SO IF IT'S MY TURN TO WRITE TO YOU, THERE'S NO NEED GETTING SORE
I MAY THINK THAT I HAVE WRITTEN, AND DON'T WANT TO BE A BORE
SO REMEMBER, I DO LOVE YOU, AND WISH THAT YOU WERE NEAR
BUT NOW IT'S NEARLY TIME, SO I MUST SAY 'GOOD BYE MY DEAR'
THERE I STOOD BESIDE THE MAIL BOX WITH A FACE SO VERY RED
INSTEAD OF MAILING YOU YOUR LETTER, I HAVE OPENED IT INSTEAD