Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Pardon you!
Pardon you! A rather large lady, his bride, Ate supersized portions, all fried, So, a wedding night thumping, He thought was her trumping, Was caused by a brontide, outside. Brontide: low rumbling sound of distant thunder
Hobbo's Poems 
I wonder how many wedding nights got spent that way?
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Not a good start.
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Start or fart?
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I think all newly weds should check their weather apps for nearby storms prior to engaging in any activity likely to cause such confusions.
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Practical and eminently sensible as always.
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Ooooooh, new word.
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👍
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My thoughts exactly 😁
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😂
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