Auntie Brenda's Pheasant
Mike

Part 5



   It dropped the kitchen on the ground.
We stepped inside and there we found
The biggest pile of oregano
Made entirely from Meccano.
Amazed, I stared without a word
Upon this splendid model herb
Of gears and levers, cogs and wheels,
The ideal seasoning for a meal.

And as I gazed in wonderment
The chef performed a sacrament.
He blessed the oregano pile
And prayed it never be defiled.
The oregano then responded,
"Chef and herb have now been bonded,
You must enter my machinery
And become part of my scenery."

Clockwork leaves then opened wide,
The Spanish chef then stepped inside.
The opening closed with just a squelch
And then the herb discharged a belch.
Once more it spoke, this time to me
"I hope that you can also see
That we two must be joined together,
I shall have you, come whatever."

"No," I said, "I'll never follow
That poor chef that you've just swallowed.
Surely it is most absurd,
A chef being eaten by a herb!"
I turned towards the kitchen door
And found that it was there no more.
I looked around and was most shocked
To notice every exit blocked.

And then the pile began to crawl,
I backed away into the wall.
Closer still, inexorably
My nemesis crept up to me,
Robot arms thrust out at speed
And grasped me by the wrists and feet.
Then suddenly I did remember -
I don't have an Auntie Brenda.

 
Mike - March 1997

Auntie Brenda's Pheasant
Part  1 2 3 4 5



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