The Time Travelling Widow
There once was a widow
Who went back in time
To try out the food
And to sample the wine
She said, “In the past
Food was perfectly good,”
They said, “You just try it.”
She said that she would.
She lived in a hovel
And read by rushlight
And shared her boxbed
With some fleas in the night.
She grew her own food
And she made her own clothes
(She couldn’t have bought them,
It’s lucky she sews.)
In a mobcap and petticoats
She looked a fine sight
But gave passing workmen
One hell of a fright.
She returned to the present
And wrote a great book
Which will teach you to garden
And also to cook
If you find yourself stuck
In the seventeen nineties
And fancy some broth
Or some bannocks and dainties.
Or you need to wash clothes
In a washtub, or sheets
By kilting your skirt up
And using your feet.
She cooked bannocks in bookshops,
Campaigned against waste
And polythene bags
And food with no taste.
With her time travelling skills -
And sense of humour – quite naughty
When she got to be sixty
She could have been forty.
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