Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.246

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

Twas the semi final
Coming to its end,
Three all male finalists
Bucking previous trend.
When told she was leaving
She'd stoically played her part.
Deep down she was seething
With murder in her heart.
One great yell of Banzai
One contestant dead
Felled by a heavy frying pan
Smacked across the head.
The first one down and,
With, her anger still unsated 
She hid inside the grounds 
And patiently waited,

Vowed to herself
She wouldn't budge 
Until she'd killed
At least one judge.
The bearded bloke 
Him for a start.
He'd been sarky about
Her Bakewell Tart.
Had a soggy bottom 
The bastard had said.
Well he didn't laugh then
As she stabbed him dead.
The very thought 
Making her merry,
She planned the demise
Of judge Mary Berry.

She laughed so much
At her planned joke
She went and had
A fatal stroke.
They covered the deaths
With a bunch of lies
And continued on
To present the prize.
For it's the baking that matters
And the tension is so thrilling
And it's not so very often,
After all, it ends up in a killing
Oh it's full of verve and passion,
You  can sense the tempers rise
As they all scheme and vie for
That British Bake Off First prize.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required