Weekly Muse

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Eleven, eleven, eleven gone

A few last leaves expire

Exhausted on the dripping boughs

As corpses hung on wire

This week The Queen was asked to say

She's sorry for the Boer War

Next week, let's make her call the French

To make amends for Agincourt

Perhaps they might apologise

For Normans killing English earls

And this in turn may shame the Danes

Who slaughtered Byrhtnoth and his ceorls?

But let's not stop at Viking crimes

Perhaps we good East Anglian folk

Should be contrite for places torched

While ousting off the Roman yoke.

St Albans, London, Colchester,

We set your lovely towns alight

So on behalf of Boudicca,

I'm here to say: "We're sorry." Right?

Farewell then, 1900 House

Fascinating ratings winner

Details of Victorian living

As I eat my tv dinner

Later in my Essex pub

A phrase I know so well, somehow:

"You see that 1900 House?

Guess "ow much that fing's worf now?"

A smaller item in the news

Though many may have missed it:

"No Nappies For Seafront Horses"

And how could I resist it?

So here we turn to Yarmouth

Since those sojourning there

May ride by horse and carriage

To take the North Sea air

The councillors however

With civic pride complete

Were bothered by the dooberries

The steeds strewed in the street

They motioned that each driver

Employ an equine nappy

A thing which renders horses

Especially unhappy.

The magistrates however

Have ruled the idea spurious

And victory went to drivers

Which made the council furious

A horse was heard to comment:

"We knew our side would walk it.

We dump ours on the seafront

But they meet up to talk it."

Imagine two months time or so

Millennium Dome / The Body Zone

While walking round in silent awe

You overhear a mobile phone:

"Gary? Hi! I'm in a leg.

I lost my way back in The Bull

Could you and Warren talk me out?

I'm coming to a largish hall

0h... that'll be The Buttock then.

No wait I feel a definite draught.

Maintenance tunnel? Isn't marked.

Could be some kind of exit shaft ..."