Chuck Has An Idea
Now Chuck isn’t terribly bright
(As you’ve gathered) but only last night
He sat up in his bed
With a thumping great head
Ache. ‘Eureka!’ he said with delight.
(Well no, not ‘Eureka’, that’s Greek;
It was more like a gurgle or squeak.)
‘What a novel idea’,
He thought, ‘Best one all year.’
(And the first one since Saturday week.)
‘I must’, he thought, ‘Write this one down’,
As he struggled to put on his gown.
‘Where’s my writing utensil?’
(Of course he meant pencil.)
‘And paper?’, he said with a frown.
He stumbled around in the night
(As one does if one can’t find the light
Switch). His neural synapse
On the point of collapse
Flickered briefly then gave up the fight.
‘Oh bugger!’ thought Chuck as he crept
Back to bed quite exhausted and wept
With frustration; his brain
Now quite empty again
And devoid of all thought as he slept