23 Babies In Maritime Tryst
Two doggerels, whelped in one litter
Averse to each other from birth
No doubt on account of their girth
Two babies, equipped with one sitter
Supplied with one rattle apiece
No doubt by an indigent niece
Five wetnurses, truculent, bitter
Bemoaning their lot with one voice
And finding no cause to rejoice
Nine critics, but only one critter
Immune to each fatal disease
That poisons a pelican's knees
Twelve bishops all covered in glitter
And wedged in a single canoe
By those who should know who is who
Seventeen kinds of wallpaper
Embellished with gryphon and grouse
Have caused the demise of my House
A score of incompetent umpires
Too blind to know which way to run
Have nonetheles routed the Hun
Yet twenty-three syllabled discourse
All Greek to poor Cicero's aunt
Delights the unwary house-plant
But two-and-a-half is the answer
Whatever the question might be
Oh, how can we make the world see?
Nothing at all can avail us
No god can avert our disgrace
We've lost the human race!
| Contributors: | Roland, TG, P, Bop. |
| Poem finished: | 10th April 1997. |