Once Is Never Too Rarely
Once, just once, could someone let me know
Why the brown bassoonist had to go?
He said he had to seek the summer snow
He knew he had to seek the icy floe
Way up North, where double reeds do grow
A lonesome quest to find the narwhal's kin
And ply them with beef jerky and cheap gin
Had seemed the only way to save his skin
Or find a noble beast to put it in
Way up North, where frozen wastes begin
The lone bassoonist, walking on the ice
Had chanced upon a walrus, teaching mice
The use of a preposterous device:
Their minds were numb; he had to tell them thrice
But still they shunned his sensible advice
At length he found the bed of twofold reeds
All incubated from young oboe-seeds
Enough there were to satisfy his needs
And further; thus his questing deeds
Became the stuff on which a legend feeds
| Contributors: | TG, Roland, P. |
| Poem finished: | 26th November 2000. |