PS Fake Poetry

Hold on there. Overalls?

The first prize was a pair of overalls?

It’s called poetic licence.

The prize was actually an electric iron.

Big deal. It’s a wonder your mother

didn’t hit the Lady Mayoress over the head with it.

You must remember, there was a war on

and household appliances were rare.

First on your street to own one, I suppose?

Your father must have been delighted.

Trouble was, we didn’t have electricity,

So Mum used to heat it up on the gas hob.

Fake poetry.