My grandma had a special guest, <br />he had been told, 'young man, go West, ' <br />by folks who knew whereof they spoke, <br />they also liked this handsome bloke. <br /> <br />They went to church where he confessed, <br />the Priest said 'son you shall be blessed', <br />but unbeknownst, quick like a rocket <br />he picked the Holy Father's pocket. <br /> <br />And stayed behind to help claen up, <br />then pocketed a golden cup. <br />Also a case of Beaujolais. <br />Who would have guessed? What can I say? <br /> <br />At grandma's house he helped himself <br />to trinkets from the loungeroom shelf. <br />He emptied then the cookie jar <br />and drank the brandy from her bar. <br /> <br />The night was dark when he proceeded <br />to drink the wine his body needed. <br />The cyanide blew up his chest - <br />wrong label, damn, who could have guessed! <br /> <br />My grandma heard the dying sounds, <br />which woke the chickens and the hounds. <br />And, being guilty, so she reckoned <br />she knew she mustn't waste a second. <br /> <br />You see, she'd recognised how black <br />his soul must be. She did not lack <br />an attitude of laissez-faire, <br />she thought about it, would she dare? <br /> <br />So, when the thieving, robbing feller <br />was resting, she went to the cellar. <br />She switched the labels on the wine, <br />with cyanide, straight from the mine. <br /> <br />A Hessian bag of giant size <br />hid him from neighbours' prying eyes. <br />She dragged him to the Harvest shed <br />and dumped him where the sign said 'SHRED'. <br /> <br />Went back inside her cosy nest, <br />dear God, my Lord, who would have guessed. <br />The village thought he'd gone away <br />and Grandma drank the Beaujolais. <br /> <br />You heard about the leprechaun, <br />the closet with the skeleton? <br />Next poem I shall tell the rest, <br />but, honestly, who could have guessed? ? ?<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/who-would-have-guessed/
