Beyond The Twelfth Night Service Desk
The faded lilies by the wall
Cry softly in the dusk
The corn transverse disdains their bawl
As time disdains their husk
The rutabagas do not weep
Yet neither do they grin
And though they moan in fitful sleep
We will not let them in
The creeping zombie veg'tables
In clandestine repose
Are nothing less than ex'crable
In their undying throes.
When necromancers make preserves
Their turnips start to boil
And bulbs who get their just deserves
Disdain all further toil
The mangel-wurzels crave fresh brains
(Their own have little use)
And as each crop begets new strains
Its zombies seek new juice
The root cellar, that awful tomb,
That home to monstrous spawn
That festering leprous womb of doom
Astride the sleeping lawn
Has oped its maw and now yawns forth
In search of lilly prey
A red-limbed rhubarb, stalking north,
Is drawn into the fray
The tiger lilies show their claws!
The foxglove crouches low
And draconic snap-dragon jaws
Entrap the hapless sloe
Tomatoes bleed! Dead pumpkins pop!
As mushrooms turn to mush
There's mayhem in the lettuce crop
The grapefruit's juices gush
Till naught but ratatouille's left
As witness to the fray
The watermelon's gooey cleft
Would cause strong men to pray
And pray they must; for, up above
The palm trees aim their seed
In spurts of unrequited love
A date's what we all need.
| Contributors: | Kevin Andrew Murphy, dkb, Kansas Sam, loaf, Apsley, Nym, Chevalier, Helen Owly, Reg. |
| Poem finished: | 25th June 2006 by loaf. |