The Spoonbill Generator

Ibstokon, Who Prefers All Comers

The prunes were laid out, row on row,       [Apsley ]

Yet not a one caught fire       [loaf ]

Unusually, because, you know       [Nym ]

The table had not ceased to glow       [loaf ]

Despite the magic lantern show       [Juan of the Pines ]

And Ottiline's desire       [loaf ]

She watched them dimly, from the barn,       [Apsley ]

Intent on hatching flame       [Arnold the Sly Ape ]

Amongst their midst, because, she felt,       [Apsley ]

The table soon should start to melt       [Roland ]

If sparks could catch the one she'd dealt       [Janet of Shine Up ]

The fiery arrow's aim       [Nym ]

No wisp of smoke, nor plume of flame       [loaf ]

Betrayed her surest strike       [Apsley ]

And this occurred, because, of course       [Nym ]

The complications of remorse       [loaf ]

Gave pruney skins the moral force       [Janet of Shine Up ]

That decent folk dislike       [loaf ]

The prunes she hated, one and all,       [Apsley ]

And, as they singed to ash       [loaf ]

And other kinds of dross withal,       [Apsley ]

Young Ottiline left for the Ball       [loaf ]

Via the doorway in the hall       [Apsley ]

And flung the cinders in the trash       [Nym ]

Contributors: Apsley, loaf, Nym, Juan of the Pines, Arnold the Sly Ape, Roland, Janet of Shine Up.
Poem finished: 6th June 2006 by loaf.