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She left me in a pickle #2

by

We gathered at her factory,
I begged her for my books.
She merely demonstrated
Disdainful, dirty looks.

I got nowhere pleading
Amongst berries and the fruit.
She left me in a pickle
And she didn't give a hoot!

I didn't push her, honest!
Perhaps frightened by a rat
She tripped, fell off the walkway
Into a giant vat...

Her end was agonising:
In boiling syrup drowned,
Amongst the berries vanished
Without a single sound.

I've lost my books and records
But I don't give a damn!
Because she left me in a pickle -
But I left her in a jam.

7 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt 18 days ago

    Haha! LOL I love it. fabulous concept and brilliant last line... and both poems rhyme too.

    I had in my team a beautiful young graduate trainee advertising executive from Widnes and her father literally had a pickle factory. Her name was Lily, but we all called her Picca of course! (This is almost true, except her name of course!... shame to spoil a gag though for the odd detail...)

  • avatar

    Drew Martyn 18 days ago

    Quite right too Neville :) That could be a drabble in itself!

  • avatar

    Jeff Taylor 17 days ago

    Deliciously dark Drew. Really good! 😊

  • avatar

    Drew Martyn 16 days ago

    Thanks Jeff, glad you enjoyed it :)

  • avatar

    Christopher 10 days ago

    Brilliant! Love it.

  • avatar

    Jamie Clapperton 10 days ago

    Thanks for making me laugh out loud Drew :-):-)

  • avatar

    Drew Martyn 9 days ago

    Thanks very much guys, I appreciate it :)

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