Canine Bearing
Despite this aberration, sir
I bear you no ill will
And though I sense that you're a cur
I half-applaud your skill
Yet one hand clapping, I aver,
Is not the sort that dogs prefer
For hounds for music have an ear
For all things else, a nose
So disregard the things you hear
And don't look so morose
You'll find your troubles disappear
And leave instead a taste of beer
So do not spare the breeder's whip
I will not keep you long
Since, lying in the rubbish-skip
Upon an unused prong,
You'll find your puppy takes a kip
And challenges your marksmanship
Contributors: | Anon., Beefy, loaf, Apsley, Ethetran, Karin. |
Poem finished: | 2nd April 2004 by Karin. |