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Humor: The Live. Love. Laugh. Pub
My Hut is My Castle
King Fred of Wallaby Creek
Down Wallaby Creek, where offroaders seek,
But glamping is not the done thing,
On a track seldom passed by people with class,
In his hut, Fred Treloar was the King.
Fred’s greatest pride was his newlywed bride,
Slim, pretty, from family reputable.
She was wealthy as hell, so Fred could not tell
If his humble palace was suitable.
She seemed rather shocked when up there they rocked,
Not the honeymoon she had expected.
Fred said, “Darling, wait for a later date,
Until wages owed me are collected.”
He lifted his bride, and placed her inside,
Her new home he hoped she’d adore.
“It isn’t top shelf, but I built it myself,
And it boasts a polished wood floor.”
His new wife Gail cried, “Did you tell a lie,
That you were well-off and connected?”
Fred said instead, off the top of his head,
“I’m a Lord here, and quite well respected.”