Nabobs and Frumps
OH! FEY! Cried the winged eel fingerling,
Rocketing under the lawn
I'll fashion a sabor of tallow and ash,
And limbs from the baobab sawn
TRILEE-O! Called the good fisherking,
Gibbering down in the swamp,
I'll bash on my tabor and swallow your cash
And then we can go for a romp.
Contributors: | Stacy, Roland, The Agent Apsley. |
Poem finished: | 11th March 1998. |