The Swenglish Home

The tale of the runny egg...

Once upon a time...

... there was an egg, blue and boisterous, born on a nest of
moss in a Swenglish house somewhere far, far away.

Resting on its eggbows, it turned its egghead this

way and that, and decided to go exploring a little.

Poached, forgive me, perched on a ladder,

it enjoyed the view for a moment,

but its restless egg soul soon yearned

for more exciting views.

Sensing it might become the victim of

the local 'egg and bacon for breakfast'-fans,

it tried on some camouflage...

... but soon came to the conclusion that the only way

to avoid ending its days cuddling pigs,

or as a tipsy toddy, was to run, run, run for freedom.

So if you see this egg thump by,

you may feel inclined to yell "Scramble!"

But you won't need to.

Because you know what they say:

Eggs can be runny, but they can't hide...