-It makes more sense than a couple of other things.

Mad Aunt Bernards Tortoise Poetry

"The page to come and visit for a fabulously sensible intake of poetry straight from the divinest of inspiration - and it's only a bit tortoisy. A cracking good read if you're under anaesthetic."
Lord Elpus - The Guardian

Tuesday, May 12

Aunt Turgid's Grand Day

It was while she was in Turkey in 1902,
That Aunt Turgid found her gift, her calling.
To dispel boredom during a thunderstorm and a verucca outburst,
she began reading a child's book (Rare Infectious and Tropical Diseases).
Backwards, as it sounded better, and you could still look at the pictures.
Well, amidst the flashes of lightning, men selling carpets, smoking bubbly things,
and verucca socks,
A massive audience of lizards assembled before her.
They sat on warm rocks, tails up and wagging, eagerly awaiting the next sentence.
After a back to front chapter on Laughing Death and complications with rigour mortis,
The lizards grew in number to 650.
The more she read, the more lizards arrived.
The lizards carried away the little man with his overpriced rug (if you bought one, you were robbed!), discarded chairs, tables and tipped over a swimming pool.
By tea time, there were 3000 lizards, paying close attention to the procedure for
Restraining rabid husbands with dog bites (in reverse, you understand - so the more she read, the healthier people seemed to be).
When it was time for her to return to England, the lizards followed. And overran West Sussex.
The council was pretty crabby about it for sometime, until Aunt Weevil built a pen in the garden.
I don't know where she got all the bloody wood from, but there you go.


  1. Crazy stuff. Like reading Edward Gorey on acid.
    Thanks for this whimsical start to my day.

  2. You fail to mention - was she alone? And if so, just how DID she manage to count first 650 lizards and then 3000 - WHILE reading Herberts Compendium (Oh, Yes! I have a copy also, Madam) of Rare Infectious & Tropical Diseases BACKWARDS?

    Methinks you lie - I counted but only 457.

  3. I didn't realise Edward Gorey took acid...well, bugger me!
    And as for you, Lesser Weevil, she used an abacus which she operated with her feet.

  4. I hope she got planning permission from the Council - she'd have to have made a highrise vivarium to accommodate 3,000 lizards. I think you exaggerate sometimes.

  5. My Gawd you have an imagination! I'm thinking either you're a genius schizophrenic or just taking too much opium. Either way, I'm in!
    (I shall have to start reading in reverse and maybe the world will look a brighter place.)


  6. what happened to the lizards?

  7. Dearest Mad Aunt Bernard, I feel sure that listening to this link may be the answer.


    Please advise what the question is.

  8. Oooh! Exaggerate?? Me?? Well, I shall leaved a pointed comment for you, Heather. You may be my mother, but Aunt Bernard is old and warty and a force to be reckoned with! x
    As for the lizards, they have turned their enclosure into a museum, and have set up a little gift shop of their own papercrafts and some sewing.

  9. If you've ever tried ordering a lizard to do the lambada, you may notice that it doesn't. This proves that lizards are deaf. Therefore your story cannot possibly be true.
    Yours etc.
    Outraged of Nether Wallop