Howsomever, Queyntely
When I fell in love with you
My knife was kept at bay
And drew another's blood
Never let the people say
I wallow in the mud -
Or strive to jump the queue
When I read The Tale of Ludd
Without a tourniquet
It merely made me mew
Never let the prelates wheeze
Or stutter in the pews
While acolytes display
Some etchings from their mews
That scarcely could betray
The firstlings of a sneeze
Contributors: | Apsley, olaf. |
Poem finished: | 14th February 2007 by olaf. |