Bereavement

He pootled along in his swingle
With fulgurant flatulent flap;
Then pootled it into a dingle
And scuttled on out for a nap.
He dreamed of his poodles and purges,
And pongids he'd bothered before;
But when he surceased from his urges,
The swingle, alas, was no more.

Bramley Attercop