The falling leaves have no concerns

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