He stood upon the bank, and thank.
This isn't as it ought, he thought.
That's quite a mighty drink, I think.
In which i could get sunk, he thunk.
I see it every day, I'd say.
I watch it every week, I'd speak.
But still inside my head, he said.
Its presence scarcely pokes, he spoke.
– by Conor O'Keefe
This poem is so daft, she laffed.
ReplyDeleteSuch silly don't come oft, she loffed.
It gave me such a lift, she liffed,
That I very nearly wuffed, she luffed.
ma