Aunt Agatha came far on her broom
Cleared the doorway, and circled the room.
Then stuffed up the landing
Her bulk notwithstanding
And left a faint whiff of perfume.
Okay, that's quite sufficient of that
Our oldies deserve some respect
They fought in the wars
And took on gruesome chores
In twilight homes for the bewildered.
Four-hundred-and-nine pages we've gone
And for every line that has shone
There are ten that just sit
Since they can't walk
Because they have no ******* legs
Creating a ship in a bottle
Takes time - a little won't do but a lot'll
A pastime for fools
With odd little tools
And a crimp in their brain-to-hand throttle
