The Oboe Omelettes
In the mountains outside Swindon
Where Sir Galahadn't dwelt
Lived a smoky man called Lyndon
(Is that how his name is spelt?)
Items from his gastric history
Filled the press for days on end
Though the cause remains a mystery
To those to whom his spleen I send
In those mountains, east of Gloucester,
Smote the giants, all day long,
On a monstrous, battered roster
Made from ham, and sang their song:
Items from their gastric annals
Entertained the knights of Thrace
While their festering face-flannels
Were oftentimes a rank disgrace!
In those mountains, west of Broxbourne
Where the A10 rambles on
Through the swamps of heaving frogspawn
That resemble Babylon
Items from our gastric fiction
Mutate our cause in search of cheese
Lest their bland, defective diction
Might infect the likes of these
In those mountains, in those mountains
Repetition is the norm
While the fountains, yes, the fountains
Keep their trembling, flexing form:
Items from their gastric plumbing
Went on show in gay Madrid
Though the punters kept on coming
Thinking it was by Astrid
| Contributors: | Apsley, Surlaw, Shipp. |
| Poem finished: | 15th January 2002. |