The Mean Spirit Inside My Frog
Toasting bread is rarely easy
Tpasting brides is seldom hard
Passing wind is often breezy
Parsing words is mostly marred
Cutting wit is sometimes clever
Cleaving wives is sometimes not
Being dead is gone forever
Baking bread can make you hot
So, next time someone tries to tell
Your fortune with a marlinspike
First look bemused, then run like hell
In some shoes you really like
Ringing bells are often phony
Tingly toes, 'nnoyingly numb
Paralyzed, a frozen tounge
Of pony makes the Muses hum
A furtive glance is very rare
A festive glass is not unknown
To core an apple or a pear
Decorum bids you mute your phone
Envoi
When all those around seem kind
You can bet that you're losing your mind
Contributors: | jm, Roland, Evan, Beefy, F, loaf, Gail. |
Poem finished: | 10th December 2004 by Anon.. |