Dandie Dinmots
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spacer My Lost Weekend

I set myself a task today, just jobs to do at home
I set to and cleaned my hair brush, just to find Iíd lost my comb.
I searched the house, yes room by room, as careful as could be,
Hereís a list of what I found, it certainly startled me.

  The fence is down, some slates are off, the shower will not heat,
The larderís looking scant and bare, Iíve nothing left to eat.
The fridge, it needs defrosting, I know Iíve left it late
Now everything thatís in there, is past its sell by date.
  Iíve checked the upright freezer, just to see what was in there,
Sponge puddings and a drumstick, apart from that, itís bare.
The freezer is in the garage, and what a mess thatís in,
Unpacked cartons from my last move, left room for just the bin.
  The room my son vacated when he left to go abroad
Was a tip to say the least, what strange things young folk hoard.
I need to rid myself of this and start afresh somehow,
I need a plan, immediately and by that I mean right now.
  I returned into the sitting room and prepared myself a shot,
My resolve was get a grip of things or your whole lifeís going to pot.
I need a list, letís organise, itís time to draw the line,
But first Iíll have another glass of that lovely Highland wine.
  I did I made the effort and drew up a working list,
But this morning when I read it, it was the work of an exclusionist.
So once again I face the task of squaring up my home
And do you know even to this day, I havenít found my comb.               
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Copyright © 2005 David Burt , all rights reserved