Fasting with Predictable Terror
For many years, this story has remained untold
But now I feel an urge to spill the beans
I feel it should be shared before I grow too old
Of course, I have to edit several scenes
But sit back now and listen while my tale does unfold
There was a friar known as Brother Matthew
He had within his keeping several books
Shakespeare being one. He'd misquote, "Brute, et tu"
For which his peers would grant him scornful looks
Then one summer day, whilst grazing 'mongst his tomes
He noticed I was hiding in a tree
Along with several of his favorite gnomes
Whose telescopes were trained upon his knee
Now Matthew liked to keep his knees away from view
For reasons that were now becoming clear:
"My naughty knees embarrass me, 'tis true,
Most chiefly when I place them here ... and here
"Ignore their rude remarks about your head -
Such holy folk should never stoop to slights"
But when his knees cried "Bet you're good in bed!"
His gnomes replied, "Yay! Go put on your tights!"
Wnen your knees offend you, you needs do what you must -
Hence: "Cut off at the knees" - a common phrase
Because there are knees and knees - and some you cannot trust
Though Brother Matthew needs his when he prays
A compromise was reached between Matt and his knees
He'd use them as a lectern - nothing more
At night they would be free to wander as they pleased
So long as Matt heard nothing of the score
Contributors: | N, F, Roland, Beefy, Ethetran, fester, Kansas Sam. |
Poem finished: | 30th September 2003. |