The sky was clear, not a cloud in sight
The stars they twinkled in the dark of night
The moon was full and lit the way
One could clearly see where the headstones lay
The night was silent save for the sound
Of the rustle of tools on our mission bound
Shovels and picks, a hoe or two
Something to dig with, that would do
We'd hatched our plan several weeks before
Sitting at the table by the door
Several half empty quarts and some brave debate
Had led us here to the cemetery's gate
Our pal Pat had just been laid to rest
A friend of ours - the very best
Cut down in life far too young
For the rest of us life had just begun
We readied our tools at the side of the grave
Poised above the earth feeling brave
On your mark get set we started to dig
The hole we dug wasn't very big
Grave-robbing was our much-planned intent
But we came about with something we hadn't meant
Instead of rescuing the body whole
It was only Pat's head that we stole
And while some of us felt somewhat sick
One smart wag started to cite "Yorick..."
I leaned on my shovel and explained such grave-thuggery
"I think we just gave new meaning to the term skull-duggery."
The prompt from the folks at Studio30+ is skullduggery/shenanigans and as always I went for the humourous (I hope) approach.
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