There’s no particular reason for this poem in case you were wondering!
Jenny’s Coin
Once was Jenny,
dropped a penny,
down in the stinking loo.
She peered in,
a puzzled grin,
whatever would she do.
***
Was never flushed,
the smell it gushed,
and filled the room with gas.
Poor Jenny screamed,
and tears streamed,
her precious coin gone – alas.
***
Would mother dear,
understand fear,
that she most certain felt.
And would she know,
the rancid flow,
and things that it could melt.
***
Her courage plucked,
but it just sucked,
body starts to tremble.
Pulled up her sleeve,
began to heave,
at what it did resemble.
***
She took a stab,
and made a grab,
she fished her hand around.
How she did moan,
she’d found a bone,
near fainted on the ground.
***
Her coin by fluke,
another puke,
her stomach was now reeling.
The coin aloft,
the smell did waft,
’twas the grandest feeling.
***
She meant to twist,
but somehow missed,
she’d slipped upon a turd.
Jenny was dank,
and now she stank,
was feeling quite absurd.
***
The walls they dripped,
the paint was stripped,
she wished that she had ran.
The coin flew high,
into the sky,
right back where it began.
***
By Roger Vincent – author of
“Apostrophe to Zenith A Book of Poems”
Roger's Rhymes & Rambles 