What scrumptious pears hanging over my fence,

surely to pick them is not an offence;

I need just six, that’s plenty to bake;

Soaked in Cider…And it’s easy to make.

I peeled them thinly leaving the stalks,

then stood them upright, using two forks,

in an old tin pot I found in my shed,

after removing tin-tacks and old lumps of lead.

I threw on some sugar after removing a spider;

Then drunk two bottles of ‘Old English Cider’

I crawled up the shop and purchased some more,

then staggered back home and fell through the door!

I poured on the cider; Well just enough,

Then drank a bit more of the lovely stuff,

I grated a lemon with my Wood-file,

then sprinkled on top to give it some style.

150 degrees, that’s not too hot,

I slid in the oven, my lovely Pear Pot.

With four hours to cook, I slept on the floor;

The oven went….PING!, I opened the door.

I removed it with care, then strained out sweet nectar

then covered my pears with tin foil protector.

I reduced my sweet juice to a syrup so gold,

and drizzled it onto my lush pears, so cold.

Whipped Cream with Brandy heaped on the top,

I’ll open a bottle, the wine cork went POP!

The next I remember was the piercing alarm,

It’s time to get up, I’m not feeling calm,

My head feels like thunder my stomachs a mess,

and why am I wearing my neighbours red dress?

The next time my mind says: “Steal pears you’ll be fine!”

I’ll decline!... I’m much better with just…Cider and Wine!