A Short Walk

[Bloggsworth]

Sunday in the Park

Johnny wasn’t feeling very well
and on his walk he tripped and fell.
In falling down he banged his bonce
upon its crown and, in getting up,
he stumbled on a passing pup
which gave, of course, a high-pitched yelp.
Johnny roundly cursed the errant whelp
in tones which so alarmed the little dog
it set out at a healthy jog across the park
towards the lake and, in doing this, left
in its wake several flocks of feeding birds
(eschewing now the vulgar rhyme) I’d like
to take a little time to tell you what came next.
Poor Johnny fell again, arse over tit, and landed
in a pile of shit, which being wet, lubricated
his descent, so off he set, down the slope
and like a jet beneath a whitewashed rope shot
towards the waiting water - (I think that you
should hold your laughter), as Johnny on his
downward path was about to breath his last.
Having once been sorely crowned, confused,
poor Johnny drowned. The moral of this tale
must be, as I am sure you all can see,
and take this as your creed, when walking
with a dog, please keep a firm hold on its lead.