Sometimes I envy the fallen leaves
Why should we live when we are bereaved?
Leaves can’t think or feel the loss
As on the compost heap they’re tossed
In the compost hedgehogs sleep
I cool them my little compost sheep
I know they have no wool or milk.
They won’t come in to lie on silk
How desperate can a widow be
I must go out and catch the flu
Shall I use a fishing rod?
I seek it here I seek it there
The virus doesn’t seem to care
Ill hang its head up on the wall
Let’s hope it doesn’t start to fall.
The Queen has stags and foxes wild
Thank God there’s no beheaded child