‘I’m going back to bed’, he said.
‘It’s Friday the Thirteenth,
I could end up dead!’
‘Even my Haiku has been affected –
and it’s not even going to be a Tanka;
so, what else can I do?’
He made himself a coffee,
and whistled ‘too-da-loo!’
returned to the safety of his four-poster…
he didn’t have a four-poster!
‘Oh, dear.’ he mumbled,
‘I now fear for the worst.’
and, at that exact moment,
the waterbed burst.
Graeme Sandford 