Our street was very, very nice :
An avenue of acers
The houses, of enormous price,
Were full of money-makers.
Abigail and Edward
Both went to private school
And little friends who came to play
So loved our swimming pool.
A chrome and silver ‘four-by-four’
The largest on the road
Was parked upon the pavement
Outside our fine abode.
And, just to show how good it was,
There lived at Number 8,
Mr Rudyard Ponsonby
The well-known magistrate.
Now, because of Percival and
Problems with the Pound
(Percy found a mistress and our
Rottweiler was drowned)
I’ve moved into the suburbs,
To a rather poor address
So, Abigail and Edward are
Eating somewhat less.
The End