We had a poetry challenge last night. A poem about central heating to include the words:
Hippopotamus
Cheese
Melon
Gromet
Scarlet
Pleased with this:
If you're bored with Bristol tasks
Finished drinking all your casks
Tracked down every wayward gromet
To the point they make you vomit
Late September turning cold
Chilly, or I'm getting old
Get a jumper (or a harlot?)
When morning colour's blue not scarlet
Your house has now become a fridge
An outpost on a frozen ridge
When the night time starts to freeze
No need to put away the cheese
And even if a rodent felon
Should perchance nibble your melon
You can know it will stay fresher
If you do resist the pressure
To press the switch and warm the meeting
Fire up the central heating
And maybe next year's job for us
Wallace and Hippopotamus
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