Oh my word


Death in the afternoon

How morose can one thought be

How cruel and usual

But you see my friends

When the strange and usual

Occurs one must not let

It get too usually strange

For an afternoon lunch

With friends how quaint

Would death be in the

Afternoon, with tea sandwiches

And a bit of herbal refreshment

With your pinky in the air

And a fond word in passing

Say your goodbyes with a smile

Cause a tear would only

Make the sandwiches soggy


4 thoughts on “Oh my word

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