Gertrude's Big Scare

There once was a lady named Gertrude.
She hated when people behaved rude.
To stay healthy, she only ate fresh food.
Her behavior was anything but lewd.

She trod toward her Pastor one Sunday.
She crossed the street looking one way,
not seeing the truck hauling fresh hay.
In a pool of her own blood she did lay.

The ambulance screeched to a halt.
Out of their doors they did vault.
They assumed it was the truck driver’s fault.
Appearing stunned as he sipped on his malt.

The doctor administered top care.
The nurse wiped the blood from her grey hair.
Gertrude’s sister announced it was a bad scare.
Her family was coming in from everywhere.

The driver arrived in a rush.
The nurse aside he did brush.
Upon seeing Gertrude smile he did blush,
with apologies he did forth gush.

Gertrude was a tough lady he saw.
But at his conscience it continued to gnaw.
He was glad that he broke no law.
So he talked to her blah, blah, blah.

Upon learning that it was only a scratch.
Gertrude hopped up and her coat she did snatch.
The grim reaper had then met his match.
He had counted his chickens before the hatch.

At quick pace she returned to the Church.
Where the Pastor had been left in the lurch.
On her scalp for the scratch he did search.
And was pleased hear of the reaper’s besmirch.