The Spoonbill Generator

Repeatedly Focal

Old Uncle Tom made a nuclear bomb [fester]

In revenge for the death of his son at the Somme [P]

And the thousands of widows who wept on his tomb [Apsley]

Whose constituent limbs served to furnish his room [Roland]

Their legs kept his tables well off the floor [fester]

And their skulls formed a pile to hold fast the door [Apsley]

For he never went out, as his eyesight was poor [fester]

As the buttons that shine every night on the moor [Apsley]

Which, though they look nice, are poor as church mice [fester]

Whose meagre comestibles never suffice [Grayman]

To fatten them one bit - quite unlike my poor neice [fester]

(Who once went to sleep on a golden fleece) [Apsley]

Contributors: fester, P, Apsley, Roland, Grayman.
Poem finished: 17th June 2002.