Monday, May 21, 2007




I read it in the Daily Mail, the paper doily’s dead !
“How can sales have plummeted ?” Asda has just said,
They were once regarded as a pillar of the empire,
Now it seems that people have just put them on the fire.
Made from simple thin white paper, delicately cut,
Soaking up the excess grease before it reached yer gut,
Life without them wasn’t on, when vicar came to tea,
Proudly displayed scones on symbols of gentility,
Adorning cakes, a cheap alternate to the crochet type,
If they go we’ll never manage - all the mess they wipe !
Last weekend, on visiting the market in old town,
Munching Artisan pastry, as we sauntered down,
We got done right out of pocket further up the streets,
Doling out seventeen euros for fruit pastel sweets,
Giggling with sweaty bodies, floury sugar lips,
Guzzling red water melon, juice without the pips,
Not a frilly thing in sight to mop our sticky hands,
The Middle Ages could have done with doilies on their stands !
Mid-week it was our Lyn’s birthday, sixty six to date,
She just put a great big doily on a pretty plate,
Slice of apple custard tart, next to four new pups,
Dumped upon her, as we drank champagne from plastic cups.
How can people be so cruel ? Wobbly on their feet,
These small souls can’t even see, never mind eat meat,
And to clear up after them - it’s a daily grind,
Uses loads of paper too - cleaning their behind.
Reckon I’ll just bite the bullet, and ring Asda’s till,
Place an international order, doilies fit the bill,
Wiping bottoms, cleaning dog pooh, it is all the same,
Keeping up appearances - life’s a silly game.
So, for every accident , help us celebrate,
Come on everybody, put a doily on yer plate !

Luv doris, the new age guru x

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