True love

Written by: ned flanders

True love.

An elderly Scotsman is dying. 
He is lying in his bed. 
When he thinks he smells home baking, 
or is it in his head? 

With all of the strength he can muster, 
he reaches his bedroom door. 
Crawls on all fours downstairs 
ignoring his pain so sore. 

He finally arrives at the kitchen, 
stares at the groaning big table. 
Covered in home made biscuits 
made by his sweet wife Mable. 

He"d loved her for fifty odd years 
in fact for all of his life. 
Was this a last act of kindness 
from a loving devoted wife? 

She knew he loved her home baking 
and the table was laden indeed. 
There was every conceivable biscuit 
just waiting for someone to feed. 

The old man felt so humble 
like this was the promised land. 
With dying breath he reached... 
when a spatula whacked his frail hand. 

"Sod off, 
they"re for the funeral."