When driving a tractor for a few hours your mind starts to wander. I was working next to a field called the Burial Ground yesterday and this led to a very interesting in-depth discussion with myself concerning a possible problem with the afterlife. This was possibly also prompted by the contents of my packed lunch…
An elderly man who was called Bertie,
Fell asleep around 7.30,
The care assistant, “Call me Fred”
Didn’t notice he was dead.
Nobody noticed until bread was buttered,
That not a word had he uttered,
And so alerted Mrs Mold,
Who confirmed he was stone cold!
Bertie arrived at heaven’s gate,
St Peter said, “You are late,
I was about to lock up with my key,
Will you join me for a cup of tea?”
They arrived at an enormous table,
Held up by a chain and cable.
St Peter whispered “Make no mistake,
The best thing here is Angel Cake!”
Bertie laughed and ate his fill,
It was quite strange, not a single pill.
Then he spluttered “Upon my life,
That Angel looks like my first wife!”
“Hello Bertie,” the Angel said,
“I told you that I’d see you dead!”
As for words he was at a loss,
He’d just seen his former boss!
Have a great day and beware of daydreaming and Angel Cake!
© Baldock Bard 2016
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