Orphans Drinking Deftly
A glass of claret twice per day
Though spilt across the floor
Will help a flautist see his way
And maybe keep the score
From beetles fitly free
Across the Sands of Dee
And for ever more
Though vanished in the spray
Knock upon the door
That keeps the wolf at bay
And locked out in the snow
Athwart the Dunes of Woe
For to imbibe is pleasure meet
For abstinence's tongue
When once inserted, in a sweet
Dung will still be dung.
Contributors: | Apsley, Surlaw, (trad). |
Poem finished: | 21st December 2001. |