Country Garden
 

Come with me I'll take you to the land of Yesterday.

To somewhere in the countryside, to spend a pleasant day.

Stroll out in the garden, with it's plants and leafy bowers.

You will soon detect a smell, that doesn't come from flowers.

It's from a shed, with pail and seat, discretely hid from view.

It's what you'd call the smallest room, more likely just the "Loo".

Bad enough in summer, when smells increase with heat,

But so much worse in winter, when snow lays on the seat.

If you want to see the paper, it's up there on that ring,

Cut in handy six inch squares, and threaded on a string.

No toilet rolls or bidets, to keep you sweet and clean.

You may end up, with news-print, on a spot not often seen.

To venture in the darkness, through rain, and wind and cold.

From the bedroom to the toilet, may not seem very far,

It is when all the light you have, is a candle in a jar.
 
 

Return to unpublished menu.