Milk Manoeuvres
Free, with every Guernsey cow
You'll find a toy surprise
Which is a fully working dhow
Of microscopic size
So milk the cow, and sail its junk
Into a sea of your own spunk
Until it's passed your eyes
Free from every kind of care
You'll sport a foolish grin
That came to you from Aberdare
But was not welcomed in
By ghostly horseman, or the hunt,
Who could not tell their rear from front
Until they scuffed your skin
Free, with every house that's sold
You'll get a dismal view
Of chimneys grey and bleak and cold
And neighbours who will sue
Your arse from here to Khazakstan
Or pee into your watering-can
Until you leave the queue
| Contributors: | loaf, asdf, Apsley, Roland, Beefy. |
| Poem finished: | 24th March 2004 by Anon.. |