The Spoonbill Generator

Duodenal Backwater

Behold a scone that I have baked!       [Apsley ]

It crowns my life (thus far)       [Roland ]

And, with its little diadem,       [Apsley ]

It won't be going far       [Roland ]

But far enough to be renowned       [Apsley ]

Along the Golden Mile       [Roland ]

And there indeed to be soon crowned       [Apsley ]

With seven pints of bile       [Roland ]

Impute to me no moodiness       [Apsley ]

No appetite for woe       [Roland ]

But only abject broodiness       [Apsley ]

That passes human show       [Roland ]

For, on this scone, I've set my sights       [Apsley ]

As it its own on me       [Roland ]

And look to it for fond delights       [Apsley ]

And endless misery       [Roland ]

In short, it is my only friend       [Chevalier ]

Come thick, come even thin       [Roland ]

Come walruses that will not bend       [Apsley ]

When Hurricano spouts       [Roland ]

The viscous liquid, an it send       [Apsley ]

Much sneezing to their snouts       [Roland ]

And suff'ring to their kin       [Apsley ]

Contributors: Apsley, Roland, Chevalier.
Poem finished: 30th July 2005 by Roland.