(13th October 1961 / Accra, GHANA)

The Vicar's Laxative

There once was a Vicar named Groon
he was raised with a true silver spoon.
And at bedtime he'd take
for his haemorrhoids' sake
a large dish of a stew made from prune.

When the sun said 'good night' to the moon
and arranged itself like a balloon
he would run to the loo
without further ado
and discharged juice of prune very soon.

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Comments (88)

World peace! ! ! With the muse of righteous morals. Thanks for your comment on my poem. Stay blessed always.
true love from us all will make the world a better place. for peace. PEACE be unto ye all, No more wars, only Peace and Love. Thank you for sharing this beautiful poem from your peaceful heart. God's Blessings Greatest be unto ye all.
Well said. Love will surely heal the word. Thanks fod sharing such thoughtful piece
Earth! A better shape than, With hatred. Thanks for your comment on my poem. Stay blessed always.
Very well expressed. Thank u, dear poet.anjandev roy.
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