GONE TO THE DOGS

It is said that, after a while,

People begin to look like their dogs.

Sadly, I no longer have a dog,

Although I suppose  

The butter soft folds of my lovely Cavalier King Charles

Would have blended perfectly

With my new voluptuous curves.

I do, however, currently have tulips.

Well, these mad Dutch ladies

Have gone a little godverdomme

Neuken-in-de-keuken,

And, frankly,

Haywire-pop-goes-the-weasel

Since I last saw them,

Which was only a couple of hours ago.

Utterly dishevelled,

Falling over each other,

Petals on parade,

Leaves tangled,

And stems lacking any sort of decorum.

They need to pull themselves together

Or there will be ructions.

Ha!

If only you could see me now. And I’ve only made stewed apple!

I’m thinking maybe carnations, next time?

 PS: My sad fibrofog/obloody-oblooda-IBD gremlins have vanished back to Greminlandland. And they can bloody well stay there. I’ve locked the door and turned on the alarm.