Our dearest, darling Emmsy-tot
Who was that silly clumsy clot
Who spilled the scalding supper pot?
Your limbs were burned and got too hot
As beastly flames they upped and hopped
Upon your lovely legs and bot,
Over arms and toes they got,
It must have really hurt a lot!
Sat upon your Gertrude’s cot,
All bare-naked, ‘sans coulottes’
And slowly getting bottom-rot.
Through smeary tears and dripping snot,
Theatre, dressings, ouchy what-not,
You’ll feel it’s all a heap of rot,
But in time the pain will be forgot –
We’re awed at all the strength you’ve got.
For you we’ve got a real soft-spot
And think of you a mighty lot.
Despite the current grizzly-grot
You burns will matter not a jot
When you’re the brand-new Queen of Swat,
A cute & cured Nairobi sex-pot,
Cruising in a swanky soft-top,
Or lounging on a rich man’s yacht
Having won the Sweepstake Jackpot
And grooving to a funky-foxtrot.
I would send blooms and wine, the lot
A choccie cake and tea in a pot,
But dipsy ditties are all I’ve got –
So I’m sending you ALL the love we’ve got,
Knowing you’ll soon come out TOP!