Feast of Fools

It has been pointed out to me that I should blog more ^_^;;; So I'm going to stop being crap, and see if my sense of humour has actually entirely eroded or it just feels that way...

Now here is a poem which my mother wrote. Because she is insane. (to the tune, naturally, of The Jumblies - 'They Went to Sea in a Sieve')

Far and few, far and few,
Are the flats where the Tashas gloat.
Their beds are brown
And their shelves are new,
And they went to work in a boat.

She went to work in a boat, she did,
She went to work in a boat.
The boat ranged far and the boat ranged wide
And the ferry was battered by rising tide
But she sang as they had her certified,
I'll go to work in a boat.

The boat will never arrive at shore
Her workmates warned at the office's door
But she put on her swimsuit and sat on the floor
And said I will not use the bus any more
I love to float in a boat.

Far and few, far and few
Are the penthouses so remote,
Where chairs may lack,
And shelves be black,
And she goes to work in a boat.

The temporary ferry went up and down
And she put on her wellies all new and brown
And laughed as she spun around and around
And landed up in a heap on the ground
You'll never catch me on the underground
My Blackberry floats in the boat.

Far and few, far and few,
Are the flats where the Tashas gloat.
Her table is glass
So mind your arse,
And she goes to work in a boat.