Poetry

Ode To Jeremy Clarkson

Jeremy Clarkson I admire your wit

Although sometimes you can be a bit of git

The ultimate bloke to which many aspire

As you play with your toys and set them on fire

It really must be a boys dream come true

To drive lamborghini’s and get paid for it too

Which is all very nice but do you realise

The nations women’s woeful cries

As their husbands would rather stare at your face

With a beer in their hand proclaiming “Top Gear is ace”

And don’t get me wrong, I’m inclined to agree

But every night it seems you’re on the TV

Killing any chance of a bit of romance

As our hubbys’ engage in ensorcelled bro’mance

I can’t tell you how many times I have seen

Series 18, episode 10 on the screen

And now I’M having dreams about being the Star

That does a lap in the very reasonably priced car!

So I’m speaking on behalf of all Top Gear widows

That are severely neglected because of your shows

And begging that you remind our men

To look up from the TV just now again

And maybe engage in some real conversation

To indulge us in a little elation

And that if they focused a bit less on tyres and traction

They might even get a little more action!

I really think it’s the least you can do

With divorce rates increasing as a result of you

Children are crying out for their
Daddy’s attention

Your screen presence creating a bone of contention

I’d hate to see you get mobbed or lynched

By angry wives with stilettos whose husbands you’ve pinched

They won’t listen to us but they’ll listen to you

So pretty please give us Top Gear widows some credit in series twenty two!

© Raye – The Bendy Witch

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