‘But where has all the money gone,’
   Says she, ‘you must remember.  Try!’
‘You’d tens and tens of millions, man,’
   Says he.  But not a word says I.

‘He’s dafter than a badger’s brush,’
   Says he, ‘we’d best be going now.’
‘Dear Uncle, won’t you speak to me,’
   Coos she and bats her eyes, the cow.

‘You think perhaps he’s had a fit?’
   Says she, her voice gone lah-di-dah.
‘Let’s call the doc’in Leamington’
   Says he. ‘The cell phone’s in the car.’

Outside, if they’d but use their eyes,
   Young saplings silhouette the sky;
New forests are expensive work,
   But not a single word says I.