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spacer An Affliction ?
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  I met a local water carrier
Whilst on my way to Gwent
I begged him, “Let me quench my thirst,
For in more ways than one, I’m spent.”
He proffered me the leather cup
Filled with a honeyed dew,
I slaked my thirst and met his eye,
“Sir, my heart felt thanks to you.”
 
  He sniffed as we stood there talking,
And said, “Have you far’ t ‘ go?”
I said, “Nay, it’s nought but flatulence,
The doctor told me so.
‘Tis a product of the broccoli,
Combined with cauliflower and cheese,
A build up of natural gasses
That can escape just when they please!”
 
  The carrier stepped back in amazement,
By breaking wind I’d made him blush.
He struggled to control his tongue
As from his mouth the words did rush.
“Er, nay sir, I was talking distance,
As in, how far off is it that you dwell,
An enquiry? Had you far, to go?
There was no mention of a smell!”
 
  He continued, “I beg sir, your forgiveness
If I have embarrassed you today,
Pray was it not for your.... er flatulence
I would of invited you to stay.
An affliction, I would suggest
That has lost you many friends,
For one knows not where the fart begins
And where the flatulence.... ends! “

 
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Copyright © 2005 David Burt , all rights reserved
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