Our Bombastic Parlour Pig
Terence wrote, when not in Thrace, a clutch of tearful plays
Bemoaning his acceptance of the droughts of former days
Which, when in humble pentinence, he thought had marred his ways
He most of all, perhaps ...
Caught in the hunter's traps
Terence wrote, when not in Thrace, of irksome clouds of dust
That sent him throughout Asia in a hail of stinging rust
Bewailing every incidence of raw, holistic lust
He was the worst, perchance
To rue that sordid dance
Terence wrote, when not in Thrace, a book of Thracian prose
Omitting all the consonants, and doubling the Os
Merely led to impotence, and quadrupled hiw woes
Contributors: | Apsley, Roland, (trad). |
Poem finished: | 16th October 2003 by Anon.. |