The Cakes, The Knife
Arabella Spommit was a temptress, all allure;
I, a sneaking voyeur, used to stalk her
For my thoughts were far from pure
And, as you are aware, she was a corker.
She used to dine on turpentine when it was to be had
So I assumed the person of a peddler
Hoping, in this way, to be the Jack that made her mad
For, as you are aware, I'm quite the meddler
Arabella Spommit was divine, yet quite obscure
I, in hood and raincoat, had to trap her
To try the very essence of her beauty to procure
And not to favour any other slapper
She used to read love poems till she found they made her sad
So I began to send her unsigned letters
But that backfired because I found they made her really mad
Not only at the texts, but their begetters
Arabella Spommit danced quite naked in the rain,
I was in the bushes with my cam'ra
The thing that most surprised her was the nature of the stain
From, as you are aware, Spanish Alhambra
Yes! I would be her Matador, and she would be my Bull
For I'm a little twisted in my tastes
And half the time I'd rather have a pullet than a pull
And for an egg have half another's wastes
Contributors: | Apsley, Roland, P, Loaf, TG, Kt, loaf, fester. |
Poem finished: | 4th April 2000. |