When hamsters stammer
Enough of all this sniping, at the wizards great!
We used to have a hundred, but you've shot ninety-eight!
The two remaining mages are hiding in the woods
In great big silvery cloaks, complete with silvery hoods
Each makes a perfect target, sitting in a tree
Mixing up his potions, for a cup of tea:
Blistering barnacles clit skin soup
That's what I drink to guard the hoop!
Be done with all this drinking, pass the mustard, please
For I'm nearly full to bursting and I feel the urge to sneeze
The sniper pulled the trigger just as the wizard sneezed
The ricochet destroyed his cup - the wizard's far from pleased
"I've had enough of waiting! Shoot me now!" he cried
Yet, in his desperation, a buzzard then he spied
One last spell was just enough to set the hawk on fire
And from its ashes make for him a worthy funeral pyre
Contributors: | Apsley, fester, Beefy, David Hotson, P. |
Poem finished: | 13th December 2001. |