Making Nuns
Sheila was my first love, and she was just a hake
I thought her my true love, but she was on the make
She told me she drank sherry, but that was just a lie
She drank gin by the bottle, and she was always dry
Sheila had a father, who blossomed like a goat;
Sheila had no mother; she'd left them for a stoat
Sheila had a brother, who'd run away to land
Where all the penguins licked him, and buried him in sand
Wendy was my next love, and she was a girl scout
I thought she was my true love, but she was a burnout
She suffered from delusions ('bout the price of fish)
A fat, firm and long eel was her dearest wish
Wendy had a sister, who sold her to the bill;
Wendy had a brother, who looked like Shanghai Lil
Wendy had three mothers, and all of them were French
Wendy had a father, but he left her on a bench
Contributors: | Apsley, Fatty, fester, Beefy, TG, dkb. |
Poem finished: | 15th January 2001. |