When You Dangle Your Sister in Alabaster
I wandered lonely, as a clod
(Unlucky sod)
And wondered why I felt so odd
This must be what it's like for God
Who seldom sees the seasons change
(Which must be strange)
Or dreams of home, home on the range
Where nothing ever suffers mange
Sat and passed time like Thoreau
(Louis, you know)
Who did not catch a train, or throw
A snowball at you in the snow
Despite you bright-blue polar boots
(And shiny suits)
A loyal valet, who recruits
An honour guard of bandicoots
To wine and dine you to the throne
(I do condone)
Because I like to gnaw a bone
And sip a glass of Cotes du Rhone
I wonder whether Louis knows
(I grew this rose)
Or, with a doublet, smeared his nose
while sipping at divine ambrose
But when you look inside my heart
(what rhymes with heart?.. oh yeah, fart)
You will behold a shameless tart
And look for new poems to start
But when all options cease to be
No one will be there to see
The stinging throatless bumble-bee
find solace in an apple tree
Contributors: | dkb, Beefy, Anon., TG, Apsley, Modeus, fester, P, dan, emily, nomi, Brittany. |
Poem finished: | 5th March 2002. |