Deep Purple, By T. Ogg aged 54 1/2
When the deep purple falls, Upon the garden wall...
Those shadows don't fall, they are thrown By structures of wood and of stone, And they're just one more sign Of the passing of time... Soon I'm Darby and you'll be my Joan.
Our youthful spring growth is now stubble, But our love is intact, not mere rubble, The secret you see, if you're lazy as we, Splitting up is just far too much trouble.
The kids, born and nurtured, now grown, Have spread their wings, moved now from home, So we take our ease, And do as we please, Contenrt to be left here alone.
And though you may think it absurd, You'll never here hear a cross word That takes too much thought, And supplies here are short... "No, Ogg not that sort of crossword."
(That last line was of course my beloved Erm. who continues...)
"Now get here and eat up your gruel, You're really a dodd'ring old fool. Then the floor you must clean, To a bright sparkling sheen." Yes dear, my precious, my jewel.
"And get off that blasted machine, It's normally something obscene Disgusting foul porn, Or humor so corn- y." (She can be so mean!
And did those feet in ancient time, Walk upon England's mountains green... Those feet love, were yours and were mine, Those valleys and hills we have seen.
Now I'm quoting that Bill Blake again, (You know that he died quite insane.) So why do I do it? And why do I rue it ...? 'Twas used as our wedding refrain.
Last updated: Sun, 12 Sep 1999.