By 8th December 2007December 9th, 2019No 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!

Peter Bruffell

Author Peter Bruffell

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