The Spoonbill Generator

Neck Up Fatty

Plates of goulash, on the deck,       [Apsley ]

Bewitch the leaden crab       [Surlaw ]

And, in its torment, on its back,       [Apsley ]

It baffles all its tribe       [Surlaw ]

Searching solace with their mates       [Apsley ]

Who spurn each passing sloop       [Surlaw ]

And heeding what the Captain hates:       [Apsley ]

The silent snarl of hope.       [Surlaw ]

Contributors: Apsley, Surlaw.
Poem finished: 11th January 2007 by Apsley.