The holy land that all but I’ve forgot.

I bought myself a cotton coat online
So big I’ll have to wrap  it round with twine
I think a smallish man could get in too,
Or a cat and dog who wish to be the crew!

Or in the winter when it’s  icy cold
I could put on three jumpers  and look bold
The doctor will then nag me as obese
Maybe I’d do better in a fleece

It said it was real denim but it’s faux
Denim don’t grow where this weirdo’s  grown.
The meaning of the word has clearly changed
I sit outside with cats all  well arranged

I think that it would make a lovely sail
For a yacht in Morecambe Bay manned by a snail
I’d  pull the ropes and look at Arnside Knott.
The holy land that all but I’ve forgot.

On second thoughts it looks  like a great tent
The shortish sleeves could function as air vents
A generous towel can be my undersheet
I’ll rent my bedrooms out and be replete

When dawn arrives I’ll wash myself in dew
And pull off snails that lay beside my knee
I’ll put on my pyjamas made of string
And aertex vest  invisible in Spring

I feel my destiny is drawing near
As I can love all ants without much fear
I can sell the house and live with Alice Springs
In a field of buttercups with wings

Oh, when you grow older be discreet
Pretend you are a queen with hobnailed feet.