Time and the Walrus
The moon was shining on the grass
Shining in shades of grey
It did its very best to fade
The colour of the hay
And this was weird because, you know
The hay had gone to play.
The sun was beaming angrily
Because she thought the moon
Got too much mention in the press
About her light at noon--
"It's very crude of him," she barked
"But I'll soon change his tune!"
The mud was brown, as brown could be
The water, wet as wet.
You could not see a blimp because
No blimp had shown up yet:
No fish were swimming undersea
There were no fish, my pet.
The Walrus and the Sharpshooter
Were strolling hop by hop
They belched like anything to spy
Such magnitudes of slop
"If this were only vacuumed up,"
They cried "Our hearts would stop"
"If thirty hags with paper bags
Did suck for half a week
Do you presume," the Walrus brayed
"That they could make me peak?"
"Can't tell ya," said the Sharpshooter
And went to take a leak
"Old crones, come and talk with us!"
The walrus did beseech
Our wardrobes they are full enough
With pantaloons for each
They have spangles that you'd die for
And are comfy in the breech
An ugly crone then peered at him
But never a noise he made
For indeed he had a secret plan
He thought 'twould get him laid
She leaned in to say "Ha! You lose!"
"I 'll live and die a maid"
But then her cronies hurried up,
All speckled for the fete:
Their hair was blue, their perfume loud,
Their undergarments wet--
And this was odd, because, you know,
I hadn't seen them yet.
More lonely cronies followed them,
And then there came still more
And thin and slow did they all go
So aching, stiff, and sore--
All limping through the bubbling mud
This cane-and-walker corps.
The Walrus and the Sharpshooter
Strolled on an hour or two
And then they dangled from a rail
Unfortunately blue
And all the little cronies burped
And farted loudly too
"The rhyme has come," the Walrus said
"To haunt your every dream"
Of nips--and tucks--and ceiling tacks--
Of lifts and peels--and cream--
And why the pork lacks sauerkraut--
And if cold fish can scream."
"But wait a bit," the crones implored
We may be past our prime
And some of us are Polish
And none of us can slime!"
"Don't worry!" said the Sharpshooter
Each paid to him a dime
"A pic of Dole," the Walrus said,
"Would suit you nicely now:
A pill or two of Bob's besides
Will further then allow--
More colourful conniptions
Now let us show you how"
"But not on rice!" the hags besought
Turning a little pink.
After such weirdness, that would be
Too normal, don't you think?
"This sight is fine," the Walrus said.
"But I could use a drink!"
| Contributors: | N, Francine, Kansas Sam, F, Karin, Randy, baoloa, Beefy, Kansas Sam (from Carroll), Nym, E Greejius. |
| Poem finished: | 7th August 2003. |