Semolina and its Would-Be Dictionary
When my friend, Jarvis, called me 'queer'
I thought him mighty strange to jeer
Considering he often wore
A diving suit. And what is more
His house wis in a willow tree
Where his salacious repartee
Impelled the birds to peck his face
And many another tender place
Which, I think, makes him quite unfit
To make out I'm the real misfit
When my "friend" chained me to a post
I thought him an attentive host
Considering he seldom swore
An oath of office; furthermore
He dwelt beneath some spreading leaves
Unlike more even-handed thieves
Who rob the poor and rich alike
And throw to both a handy spike
Wherewith to rid themselves of lice
And to impale the fatted mice
"When, my friend," I did enquire
"Did you obtain that flaming tire?"
Considering you often rode
In streams of fire past my abode
Whereas you lived atop a crag
A precipice of sodden slag
From which good men were thrown in tens
To sate the Sirens of the Fens
And oft into the mire sank
Where frogs their vital fluids drank.
When all my friends have turned their backs
We'll have no need of heart-attacks.
| Contributors: | F, Kansas Sam, Tall Whoopie, Chevalier, SN, Ma in Z, Apsley, Cocoa Channel, asdf, loaf, Kevin Andrew Murphy, Grayman, olaf. |
| Poem finished: | 5th January 2007 by Chevalier. |