The Curmudgeon


Thursday, March 31, 2005

The Ecological Songster

A Woman Named Marge, who Lived on a Barge
On a River quite Clotted with Gunge,
Was Fishing for Pike with a Net, and a Spike,
And some Bait, which was Raspberry Sponge.

She had Waited an Age, Patient as an Old Sage
Who is Bored for the Sake of his Soul;
The Hour had Struck Late, when at Last, the Choice Bait
Disappeared down a Toothy Great Hole.

Something Snapped at the Cake, caused the Whole Ship to Shake,
And she Hurriedly Reached for her Prong;
But before she could Strike, a Huge Mutant Pike
Broke the Surface, and Burst into Song.

He Sang of True Love, and of Moonlight Above,
And other such Stuff of Romance;
His Voice was Melodious - A Tenor Commodious -
Which Almost put Marge in a Trance.

Then his Voice became Low, and to that Evening's Glow,
He Imparted a Sweet Lullaby;
As Marge stood and Listened, her Weary Eyes Glistened,
For she Thought of the Years Long Gone By.

She Choked Back a Tear, and then Threw Down her Spear,
For she'd Crooned this Same Song to her Daughter;
As Marge stood a-Quiver, the Pike in the River
Abruptly Reared Out of the Water.

He Bit through her Waist, and made Justified Haste
To Carry her Two Legs Away;
He came Back for the Rest, and her Head and her Chest
Kept his Family Fed for the Day.

And as they all Ate, he Began to Relate,
In the Guise of a Musical Fable,
How he'd Set Up the Kill with his Artistic Skill
To Bring Back the Prey for the Table.

Yes, he Told them this Story, Quite Moral if Gory;
Told his Wife and his Dear Infant Charges
This Wondrous Solution to All the Pollution
Of Rivers by Persons on Barges.


Post a comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home