The Spoonbill Generator


Lapwings on my shoulders, nickels in my purse [Francine]

Splendid granite boulders, an ancient celtic curse [Nym]

I have to laugh at all these things, I am so undeveloped [Francine]

My fear of witchcraft has me quite enveloped [N (who's]

Farthings in my jockstrap, quarters in my snatch [Francine]

Squirrels in my rock sack, an egg that's ripe to hatch [Nym]

get a room you two ; ) [Karin]

I have to snort at all these things, I am so overanxious [Francine]

For all our tribulations no-one ever thanks us [ isaroom!]

Bustards in my pocket, soup spoons in my hat [Francine]

Centaurs in a locket, please do stop to chat [Nym]

I have to smirk at all these things, I am so algorithmic [Francine]

Let's all the whackers & spoonbillers get together for a picnic. [Karin]

It is an idea that I have oft imagined [Francine]

We could hold a beauty pageant [Nym]

or a la Star Trek, a convention [Francine]

Where geeks can get attention [Nym(no luck with chat?)]

Where is the chat? [Francine]

This is where it's at []

Okay, then after this line hit end stanza [F]

That would be a true bonanza! [Nym]

Contributors: Francine, Nym, N (who's, Karin, is a room, Nym(no luck with chat?),, F.
Poem finished: 19th July 2003.