One dark night,
When the was no light,
I went out on my bike,
And came across a fight.

There was a gang of vigilantes,
And a group of ranting aunties,
All battling, kicking and chanting,
Over what appeared to be frilly panties.

The panties were unashamedly brandished,
In the faces of opposition frantic,
They were immediately grabbed and ravished,
And used to roll up radish.

I could not watch any longer,
The aunties were definitely stronger,
The vigilantes left in the their throngs-a,
And the aunties left the scene in a conga.

I set off on my bike once more,
And was suddenly knocked to the floor,
By a child on a skateboard,
Carrying a set of solid oak drawers.

I shouted, "Come back with that storage space!"
The child turned and laughed in my face,
When I looked at my knees they were grazed,
And my front tyre was all over the place.

I walked to a place not particular,
My bicycle wheel perpendicular,
I discovered half a binocular,
And laughed 'coz it was all so jocular.

The End.

 

©Cathryn Sharpe