We tried to make our family tree

Was fine as far as you and me

And Mum and Dad and Auntie Jane

With cousin Eustace – what a name!

And Uncle John who died too soon

With all the rest of his platoon

And Dad’s young sister Auntie Joan

Who was the one to stay at home

And nurse her mother’s dodgy bladder

Which wore poor Joan into a shadow

Though helped a bit by Uncle Ray

Whose manners camp proclaimed him gay

Though this seemed never understood

Despite his live-in friend Rob Hood

And then we came to Grandpa Frank

Who used to work in the Midland Bank

And Granny Bess, a real treasure

Who always seemed to have the leisure

To love and welcome all and sundry

With cups of tea and biscuits custardy

And Great Aunt Maud who was very fat

Wore wrap-around pinnies and a purple hat

Plus Great Uncle Cyril who worked on ships

But died in Durban when he broke both hips

The branches of our tree kept growing

And got so complicated, not knowing

Who was who and which their mothers

Some appeared to have no fathers.

So we gave it up and let lie in peace

All those relatives now deceased.

© Gillian Peall


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