The Missed in the Mist

 

THE MISSED IN THE MIST

I'm practising my little speech

For when the cops arrive.

They'll be intent on your white truck

Left parked out on the drive.

My phone call has alerted them

To the little mystery;

' My husband has just disappeared!

Wherever can he be?'

They'll ask me when I saw you last

And where I was last night,

And they'll be very much intrigued

By your truck newly painted white!

They'll see the brush-strokes done with speed;

They'll notice they're not dry.

They'll see there is no number-plate

And they will ask me why.

They'll notice all the little clues,

The torn upholstery,

The brochures of the Channel Isles

Left there for them to see.

They'll find the scribbled little note

In enigmatic scrawl;

They'll notice, in the back seat,

A little old tartan shawl.

The dead rat under the bonnet

Will make them scratch their heads

And that photo of Alice and Arthur

When they were newly-weds.

The strong smell of violet perfume

Is sure to assail their noses,

And they will sniff expectantly

At the bunch of half-dead roses.

They'll have a strong suspicion

That you are stone-cold dead,

But they'll never guess that you're upstairs,

Bludgeoned in my bed!

*

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SHRINK PLEASE!

The future'd look a great deal rosier

If Space were just a little cosier.

The concept would be more romantic

If it were slightly less gigantic.

I find that I'm so over-awed

That I become, in some ways, bored!

The whole thing is so very vast

That I just stand, amazed, aghast,

When Scientists, with gay abandon,

Suggest some planet we might land on.

They speak of light-years with panache;

They speak of old worlds burnt to ash!

Worlds collide, Red Dwarfs arise;

They even speak of our demise!

Multiverses which may be

Created for all eternity

Dazzle, boggle and befuddle

And simply leave me in a muddle.

And one thing I don't like at all.........

The damned thing makes me feel so .......

small.

*