Anyone For A Kickabout

Anyone For A Kickabout 

We were off to visit my great, great Auntie Jean 

She was old, wrinkly, spindly and mean, 

Because of her big cabaggy ears 

She had a horn made of bone so she could hear 

She'd shout real loud she said to make her self-clear

In her rickety rickety old house made of wood 

We played quietly like mice that was understood 

She kept strange things high up on shelves 

An eyeball in a jar and dolls that looked like elves 

From the shelves hung whips of dried up lavender

As far as I know, she was never a gardener 

One night when the moon shone and I couldn't rest 

I crept down those creaky stairs quiet as I could, I tried my best 

I  sat on the bottom step and saw with my very own eyes 

The dolls come to life, turned in to their Elfy guise,

They shimmed down the lavender ropes 

                                        

Somehow with the jar aloft they kind of coped

They dance upon the jar top 

And clapped with glee when it went pop 

That staring eye was suddenly kicked out 

The elves went mad and began to shout 

The next I knew they were playing eyeball!

The eye was kicked as they played 

The eyeball rolled and gunge was splayed 

it looked like there had been a slug invasion 

Slime was all over the house on that occasion 

No one team seem to win a game 

But one of the elves became very lame 

All his kin seem suddenly scared 

And shimmed back up the lavender 

It seemed they didn't care! 

Next morning I found, I had fallen asleep at the bottom of the stairs 

What I saw next, tickle me all over, even hair!

My  great,great auntie Jean pick up the now still dead elf 

Looked up and counted the others were still on the shelf 

With one flick of her hand, the elf melted into her hearing horn

The bit she held it by, the bit that was well worn! 

She search the floor, scoured all about, 

"where's that eyeball gone" she began to shout 

She followed some slime trails around the room 

Then finally she spied it, it had rolled beside her broom

Never was I to return to my great great Auntie Jeans 

But I was never to forget what I swear I had seen 

So beware of old ladies with bits on very high shelves 

For they may need a new team of eyeball playing elves