The Weekly Muse

Above the spires of Oxford

The west wind sculled the clouds

As summer sighed, "Excuse me,"and

no more.

The thistledown was drifting

Amidst the shopping crowds

And autumn lounged there, coughing at

the door.

But in the Bodleian library

A rave was taking place

As deathwatch beetles turned the roof

to rubbish.

An insect jogged his neighbour

And said, "This gaff is ace.

It's erudite and cool without

being clubbish."

Elsewhere in academia

The egg-heads may restore

Old Chaucer's Wife of Bath's

good reputation.

They say he meant to edit

The smut he wrote before.

Who cares? It showed a great imagination.

Prince Charles is being treated

For short-term memory loss

I had that problem once but got it sorted.

Prince Charles is being treated

For short term memory loss

I had that problem once but got it sorted.

But foremost in our thoughts now

The mourning of That Death

We try to come to terms with what it means.

And say a prayer for Kevin

Who drew his final breath

And went through hamster hell for

Levi jeans.

The team that brought you Dolly

Declines to clone your pets

Unless of course, you have a large deposit.

In which case, take old Fido

Despatch him at the vets

And grab a spanking new one from

the closet.

The evidence is mounting

Against the The President

So says his prosecutor, Kenneth Starr.

Bill claims he'd never questioned

What Monica had meant

When told she fancied "having a cigar".

The latest news that women

Prefer a pretty lad

Is poor if you're a rugged manly chap.

The other news this week is

The same and just as bad

It's still official: Railways are crap.