Here's a poem well known in Oz:-
A GRAVE SITUATION
When I staggered away from my favourite pub
The night was dark and still.
So I thought I'd take a short cut home
That led over cemetery hill.
Now I'm no hero as everyone knows
And I've got no reckless trends
But ghosts and the like well they leave me cold
As it were. Though spirits and I are old friends.
I wobbled along through the cemetery gates
Begging my legs to behave
And everything went pretty well so I thought
Till I fell down a newly dug grave.
For a moment I thought I'd landed in hell
And ended my earthly career
I sniffed like a hound for those sulphurous fumes
Expecting old Nick to appear.
But reason returned and I staggered erect
My prison so dark to survey
And I tested my bones for a fracture or two
But everything functioned okay.
I made a feeble attempt to get out
But I needed no more than a glance
To convince me in my condition
I hadn't a ghost of a chance.
I reckoned I'd have to lay off for a while
And when I woke sober and fit
I'd surely come up with a good idea
That would get me out of the pit.
But just then I could hear fast oncoming steps
It seemed too good to be true.
But before I could shout cooee or offer advice
In the grave there were suddenly two.
By chance he fell at the grave's other end
With no-one to cushion his fall
But up he rose with a strangled yelp
And attempted to scale up the wall.
This chap was at pains to be up and away
As the capers he cut plainly told.
He jumped and scrambled and he jumped again
But his fingers and toes wouldn't hold.
I hadn't yet spoken - well I'd hardly a chance
The way he cavorted about.
And I had to admire the way that he fought
To sever all ties and get out.
Of course he believed there was nobody near
He thought he was there all alone.
And I got the idea it had entered his head
That the grave was becoming his own.
I felt rather sad for the poor little bloke
Now acting a little distraught.
I thought he'd relax if I gave him the drum
That he wasn't alone as he thought.
So I walked up behind him and tapped on his back
As he paused for another wild bid
You can't make it mate I breathed in his lug
But by the lord Harry he did.