by cricketjeff on June 1, 2009. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
That Jenny Jones’s Mother chose to wear.
The wind was much too playful and it had a feeling that,
The hat would like a journey through the air.
It wasn’t such a little hat, more like a circus tent,
The sort that awful mother’s choose to wear.
And Osbert Johnson really thought the wind was heaven sent,
That lifted that excrescence in the air.
It danced along the country lane, with Osbert sent to chase,
Despite the suit that he was forced to wear.
He ran a mile to catch it, now he’s rather red of face,
And gasping for another breath of air.
The awful hat had settled in the centre of the pond,
Though ponds don’t often have a hat to wear,
An idea’s entered Osbert’s head, he knew he would respond,
So now he’s throwing stones into the air.
The third or fourth, perhaps the fifth, was such a perfect shot,
The horrid hat’s no longer there to wear.
The wedding guests arrive in time, to see – well, not a lot
Just ripples and some mischief in the air.