Case of the missing Veuve

He accused me of taking   

A wad of the green

And though I postulate

The thought is obscene


Still he maintained

A theif was I

And there it was

I started to cry


Of all the things

I’ve done I regret

Not once did I

Steal someone’s wad with intent


So I thought on

And then sadly I fell

Not knowing if he

Or if’t was I had the spell


For three days I thought on’t

And after did say

If I can’t remember,

It must be the tray


State induced

Was my meanor

When looking did I

Find nothing around

But a bottle of dry


I started drinking

And my mind did produce

An array of ideas

but nary a truce


For one starts to wonder

When accused of a deed

If maybe the accuser

Isn’t a seed

Whence this thought did come

I came with a keeper

If I drink all the Veuve

He can’t call me reaper


I looked at the bottle

Chilled all so well

But when’t was opened

No good did i smell


I’ve heard that Veuve

Is the poor man’s Dom P

But not for this little

Bitch by the sea


Hating Veuve and knowing

He’s in such a stooper

When he returns from his trial

Will he notice the snooper?


An idea I can’t

Possibly entertain

As I am a pawn

In his sick little game


So leave me alone

You accusing old goof

Because t’wasn’t I

Who Made off with your Veuve

by Bethany Ryan sometime a long time ago