Laconic as Pestilence
Marge sees not her hem's afire,
Butter wouldn't melt ...
She bobs and twists 'cross Bedfordshire
On an elephant
Made of brussel sprouts
A pachyderm with leafy brow
Afraid of roundabouts
Though fond of roe of smelt!
Marge holds not her heart's desire,
Butter wouldn't spread...
She weaves and glides through Devonshire
With an elf-like tread
'Midst the carrot-tops
Where Pakistani army cows
Fertilise the crops
Though fond of sour kraut!
Contributors: | Barrymore's Ghost, Roland, fester, P, Stacy Alexander, Anon., dkb. |
Poem finished: | 14th October 2002. |