by | Dec 8, 2007 | Poetry | 0 comments

My wife told me to change a light bulb,
That was hanging in the air
But it was dark, I could not see,
I had to stand upon a chair.

One leg of the chair was shorter,
Than it should really be
And when I stood upon it,
It became very wobbly.

“ Hurry up, ” my dear wife said,
“ I cannot see a single thing. ”
Oh! How I’d love to get off this chair
Her neck I then would wring.

As I reached up, into the air,
The bulb was higher than I thought.
The chair, became unstable,
More unstable than it ought.

“ Have you finished? ” My dear wife cried.
“ Have you not yet done? ”
But the chair had gone from under me
And I landed hard upon my bum!

As I cried out, in reels of pain,
From my wife there was no sorrow.
“ Oh, leave it, ” she said, “ you’re hopeless
You can change the bulb tomorrow. ”

Then when the ‘morrow it did come,
It became so plane to see,
No wonder she couldn’t get the bulb to glow,
When she didn’t turn on the electricity!


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