The Spoonbill Generator

Wood-daemon, Guide Me South!

The bittern is a curious bird, according to the sage [Beefy]

Who kept a dozen, howling in an alabaster cage, [Roland]

Where they were free from commas, to tidy up the sense, [Apsley]

So keep your punctuation locked up in your tense [fester]

These birds there were aplenty, ten and then eek two, [Apsley]

The "eek" was from the parakeet, as all the prophets knew [Beefy]

For they told of its coming, and of its going, too, [fester]

But, alas, did not foresee the burning of the zoo: [Apsley]

The bitterns did: they fled the fated coops three days before [P]

And tried to send out messages in bleakest Semaphore, [Apsley]

Alas, it's quite impossible to semaphore while flying [Beefy]

So those who warned of danger paid the ruesome price of dying. [P]

The sage beheld disaster, which he at least foresaw, [Apsley]

And was wearing a steel helmet when the bitterns hit the floor [fester]

Though that was out of fury, not through their being hoist, [Apsley]

And, because it had been raining, the bitterns were quite moist [fester]

And so the floor got dented and also rather wet [Apsley]

The birds love bird food [Anon.]

Let us not forget [Beefy]

Contributors: Beefy, Roland, Apsley, fester, P, Anon..
Poem finished: 20th May 2002.