A Nasal Passage Poem by Michael Durcan

Across the verdant pastures green
a monochrome cow herd could be seen
and several beasts with deep intent
emitted their chocolate effluent.

As I hastened by
a Tamworth sty,
the air was rent
with a different scent.

My pace, it quickened,
some smoke grew thickened
from the blazing fire
of old tractor tyres.

Escaping from the rubber stench,
I came upon a buxom wench
whose very acquaintance with a shower
there had not been for many an hour.

Arriving home, was't time for tea?
Aroma of baked cake for me?
But no, something was overloaded
the baby's nappy had just exploded.