The Spoonbill Generator

Dreaming Our Favourite Cyclones

Wandering churchwardens, speaking in tongues [TG]

Threaten our water-supply [Roland]

No-one can calm them, for nobody knows [TG]

A language in which to reply [Roland]

We've complained to the bishop, who cares not a whit [P]

Rejecting our pleas with a curse [Roland]

He's only concerned with the size of the font [TG]

And will it fit into the hearse? [Roland]

Deacons and various men of the cloth [P]

Seasoned by years of neglect [Roland]

Attempt to appease us with vegetable broth [P]

They know will have little effect [Roland]

We've consulted with lawyers and issued a writ [P]

Respecting our rightful deserts [Roland]

And dinner each night at the Tour de la Pont [TG]

(The size of the bill is what hurts) [Roland ]

Bishops and shamen, who should know the truth [TG]

Will have nothing to do with our cause [P]

With many a fumbling 'fie' and 'forsooth' [Roland]

They make a true sham of our laws [TG]

We're compared to the doctors who, lacking in wit [Roland]

Can not tell a hog from a horse [TG]

While we, who are perfectly sure what we want, [Roland]

Are forced to respond in pig-Morse [TG]

Contributors: TG, Roland, P.
Poem finished: 11th December 2001.