Midsummer Night Terror

It was a sickly-sweet night of prickly heat
in upmarket downtown Littlebighampton.

After the après-Scrabble party
where cools had been blown
and tiles had been thrown:
A J* and a V†,
two As and an E‡.
We were discharged without thanks.
They've still not found the blanks.

I ended up on the croquet lawn,
bound to the ground with hoops of iron
while uncouth youths
battered my sorry balls
to all four corners of the garden.

You went to the tree of knowledge
only to find that it had been cut down
and turned into sheets of A3 paper
which the youths of the previous verse
were busy drawing crude penises on.

Only fools forswear their bedtime beverages
and go against the flow of Ovaltine,
opting instead to strut about in donkey heads.
Blood-curdling cries.
A Midsummer Night's Scream.

B.R. 21/06/2018


*8 points
†4 points
‡1 point each





What the deuce?
Edwin Landseer, "Scene from A Midsummer Night's Dream. Titania and Bottom", 1851, National Gallery of Victoria