The Bucket Limericks: My Life as Our Hyacinth

She ne'er makes out Richard's phrases
As does he when her treble she raises.
Whilst to his duties without delay,
She yet corners him on his way:
"I hear your voice but not clearly its praises."

On Easter she donned vibrant threads,
Asking Richard to repeat what he said,
And much to his detriment,
He did try to compliment:
"Ah...well...you look like an egg."

Her house-pride did gleam--O, it shone,
But her hoarding did make Richard moan,
"I can't park in the garage!"
She cried, "Don't disparage!
Sheridan will need his toys for his own!"

Whilst looking for a card for Richard's list,
Scolding, "Why do you hide things like this?"
She rummaged and decried,
"Oh, do not blame your eyes!
You've e'en hid your specs not to read it!"

The morn, it did challenge Mrs. Boo-kay
Whilst planning correspondence for the day.
Accoutrements she couldn't spy in
'Er Edwardian desk that's nearby in
The master bedroom for her creditors to pay.

She traversed to the office where Richard
Hoards her station'ry, stamps--and was bewildered
To detect (oh horrors) a Bic
In the kitchen where her shtick
Of candle-light suppers are rendered.

Gathering cheques she found she wasn't able
'Til she glimpsed them in a heap on the table
In the formal dining room:
"Oh, Richard, how could you
Mar this surface with a finish like sable?"

Our Hyacinth was plagued by disorderliness:
With her morning right slowed by the mess
But kept trippingly singing
'Til the neighbors' ears were ringing
And the postman crept up with surreptitiousness.

(Many thanks to BBC's KEEPING UP APPEARANCES and PBS for airing it)