FOOD FOR THOUGHT

By Peter Woodgate 

The loving was fine whilst illicit

For years it kept smouldering away

But someone found out what they were about

And told him that he’d have to pay.

 

Divorce, so he thought, made him happy

It gave him the chance now to wed

The women he’d kissed and so sorely missed

When they weren’t together in bed.

 

And so, side by side, but now legal,

They discussed mundane things such as food.

“My Ex,” he would say,” with eggs had this way

Of making them taste oh so good.

 

Well his new bride was not too impressed

She disliked his degrading remark

It appeared, in her eyes, she was not such a prize,

And that marriage was only a lark.

 

From then it grew worse by the day

She felt he could not now be trusted,

She hadn’t a clue if he was now true

And thought him a two-timing bastard.

 

They tried to patch up their poor marriage

And booked in at a five-star hotel

But whilst eating lunch it came to the crunch

They could not now put up with this Hell.

 

They went back to their room for a rest

But the row continued to smoulder,

He grabbed hold of his wife and extinguished her life

Smashing her head with a boulder.

 

The moral of this sad TRUE story

Is think before signing the book

And if marrying again then please make it plain

That she is the best ever cook.

Copyright Peter Woodgate