Janie-Jane


Janie-Jane, renowned by name,
Staged a heist and went insane,
She didn’t plot or stay up late,
Study blueprints and ruminate,
A desire for cash she did not harbour,
Didn’t own a balaclava,
Her grey matter simply rearranged,
And overnight she was deranged,

She walked the dog, she ate her greens,
She stuffed a crossbow in her jeans,
And shouting orders; butting heads,
Lay siege upon a branch of Gregg’s,

They screamed “don’t be rash now don’t be hasty,
“Take our cash and take our pastry!
“Heavens above, calm down love,
“You may be armed but no need to shove”

Janie-Jane, she drew her bow,
She pulled an arrow and let it go,
And the deadly metal flew to splice,
A by-standing chunk of lemon slice,
And whilst the custom wept and cowered,
The cake was savagely devoured,
Then in that fashion parents dread,
She stuffed her face with gingerbread,
And swallowed whole five or ten,
Severed limbs of biscuit men,

It became apparent that she would not spare,
A single clotted cream éclair,
And with dreadful menace in her eyes,
She headed for the meaty pies,
But recoiled again just like a shot,
(Apparently that counter’s hot)
Yet she finished off the awful job,
With sausage rolls stuffed in her gob,

Janie-Jane, she’s in the nick,
She ransacked Gregg’s and then was sick.

Gwen

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About Gwen and Elinor

Two bloging buddies who love tea and biscuits.
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