Begone! Said The League of Ostriches
When first I woke upon this day,
The weasels smeared my feet with clay:
then came the lion, crock and bear
And Billy Goats on rocking Chairs
This was a day, then, not unique,
- Just the last one in a week
Where artichokes were eaten,
and all the children beaten
Soundly with a whip
When I next woke the clay had set
And up above me soared a jet,
I tried to move - my feet were stuck
I'm really having rotten luck
Unlike my uncle in Nepal
Who's bought himself a crystal ball
TO learn he'll never be tall
Anon messed up the beat y'all
Those crystal balls are better than
A cobra in a frying-pan:
Like pimples on a budgie's beak
The never miss their turn to speak
And so my plight was quite complete,
Or so thought I, but things got worse:
My brother wrapped me in a sheet,
And loaded me into a hearse
And, if that weren't ill-luck enough,
He then nailed down the coffin lid:
I thought that I'd run out of puff,
When into flames the coffin slid
Upon the pirate ship.
Inside the coffin, it was hot
And I despaired of drinking tea,
Far better 'twere that I'd been shot
And left to die upon the sea
And then, an appetising smell
Of porridge, apples and champagne
Restored me from my dreams of Hell
As, thankfully, down fell the rain
I then awoke in floods of tears
(The first I'd cried in many years)
And saw that all in life, though dim,
Is better with a glass of Pimm's.
So grab yourself a sip!
Contributors: | Engliahqueen, Apsley, Englishqueen, Nigel Sly, P, dan, fester, Beefy, Anon.. |
Poem finished: | 24th April 2002. |