I came across this poem in one of our old Millermags and thought you might enjoy it. The inspiration was an experience I had when heavily pregnant years ago!
There was a lady I have heard,
Of limb both large and stout,
Who got into her bath one day
And then could not get out.
This lady used to lie and soak
An hour, or sometimes more,
Regardless that her husband stood
And fumed outside the door.
She'd take her sewing or her book
Her favourite magazine,
And answered to her husband’s shouts
'I'll come out when I'm clean!'
And so one fateful day she climbed
Into her warm retreat,
Taking (in case starvation struck)
A bite or two to eat.
Nothing much, the merest snack,
To keep the pangs away:
Some walnut cake, some scones and cream,
Some biscuits on a tray.
She lay and let her troubles slide,
Those worries that encumber,
And whiled away an hour or so
In warm aquatic slumber.
Her husband who, unlike his wife,
Was rather tall and thin
Stood outside the door and cried
'My dear, please let me in!'
He said 'You've been there six whole hours!
I'd really like my dinner.
If I don't eat I'll waste away,
I can't get any thinner.
'Besides,' he said 'I've something else
To bring to your attention
A pressing problem! Getting worse!
Embarrassing to mention!'
Grudgingly she went to rise
From out her warm domain-
Alas, the grub had done its work,
Her struggles were in vain!
'Help!' she cried 'I can't get out!
My bottom's super-glued!'
And then at last her grave excess
Of eating she eschewed.
She wept, she cried, she pushed, she heaved!
And all to no avail.
She pulled upon the shower pipe!
She tried the towel rail!
'My sins have found me out !' she cried,
'I knew I never should
Have eaten both those fresh cream cakes
On top of chocolate pud!'
Her husband said 'My dear, it's true,
You've grown a trifle stout.'
'I’ll join the slimmers’ club,' she cried,
'If you can get me out!'
The plumber came but shook his head,
Obliged to face defeat.
'Ladies stuck in baths,' he said,
'Is just not up my street!
'I'll mend your pipes and dripping taps
And check your central heating.
The problem here, politely put,
Is known as excess seating!'
The fire brigade no sooner heard
Of this poor lady's plight,
Than up they roared with horns and bells,
And clear blue flashing light.
They brought their axes to the door
And cried "Don't be distressed!
We're coming in, we'll have you out!'
She cried : "But I'm undressed!"
"Display the foam discreetly round
Arrange your soap and brushes!
We'll shut our eyes, the more to save,
Your modest female blushes!
"We're professionals! Stand aside!
We'll manage, never fear!
We'll get you out! but first we've sent
For heavy lifting gear."
All through the night, all through the day
They struggled on in vain
They talked about a cutting torch
And should they fetch a crane?
'Alas,' her husband said, 'I fear
Mere force will not succeed.
The answer lies in you, my dear,
To do away with greed.
"If you could lose a pound or two,
Some inches from your you-know,
Why then I'm sure you'd pop out fine.
If not right now, then soon- oh!
"No breakfast spread or tea time cake,
No lunch or TV dinner
You’ll have to go without my love
Until you can get thinner!'
She wept, she cried, but forced at last
To reach the same conclusion
She waited out her fate and starved
In watery seclusion.
A night, a day, a week she bore
Her diet of refinement,
Until at last, a heave! a push!
She burst from her confinement!
And straight away she rushed downstairs
To raid the fridge and larder.
Her husband followed, crying out
'My dear, you must try harder!'
But she declared, 'I'd rather eat
Than soak for hours and hours,
'The answer's simple, blow the diet!
'In future I'll take showers!'
