Sweet repose

She did suppose in sweet repose

He lay upon the bed

Then on inspecting closely

Concluded he was dead
.

A dagger, of the ritual kind

Embedded in his chest

Had penetrated deeply

And ruined his brand new vest
.

“Oh John dear John, how could you

Give me all this stress

The vicars coming later

And you’ve made an awful mess
.

Oh John dear John, how could you

Bring me so much pain

There’s blood all on the bedspread

I’m certain it will stain
.

There’s blood all on the pillows

There’s handprints on the wall

And several bloody footprints

Are leading to the hall”.
.

Regaining her composure

She removed the ancient knife

Washed it till it sparkled

As would any wife
.

She bound the gaping wound

To stop more blood from spilling

Then pondered on the reasons

For her husbands killing
.

No time to lose, she dragged

His lifeless body through the door

And lay his now stiff lifeless corpse

Upon the garage floor
.

Returning to the bedroom

Armed with soap and water

Determined to restore it

To look, the way it oughta
.

She put the bedclothes in the wash

Scrubbed floors and walls, and then

Though everything was spotless

She did it all again
.

Then when the task was over

And all was spick and span

Returning to the garage

She knelt down by her man
.

“Oh John, dear John, I’m sorry

Now, I did try to impress ?

Just how I hate disorder

And living in a mess
.

So John, dear John, I’m sorry

But you’re going to have to go

To that spot out in the garden

With, Bill and Fred and Joe

© John W Fenn 14-02-2009