"Come, Watson, come!
The game is afoot!"
"Shall I wear a pair of shoes, Holmes,
Or just a single boot?"
"I know jiujitsu, Watson,
and Moriarty can box.
But all you do is take extensive notes,
So wear your wollen socks."
Showing posts with label nonsense verse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nonsense verse. Show all posts
Friday, March 21, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
And hast thou slain the Jabberjee?
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberjee, my son!
The monocled eye, the umbrella's jab!
The nonsense verse and occasional pun,
The charminar, the gift of gab!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And hast thou slain the Jabberjee?"
"I thought you said 'Jabberwock'! Oh, my hat!"
"You've killed the wrong one, I see...
You fool! (he wailed) You awful prat!"
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
The Custard Man
Howard was a custard man,
who lived inside a custard can.
The custard man wore a shabby
hat and kept a custard tabby.
Then on June the twenty-third.
as he fed a custard bird
to the cat, it coughed and spat
all over Howard's custard hat.
Howard called the vet and he
said he'd been alarmed to see
his dearest pet, his cat o' custard,
normally a healthy shade of mustard,
had, on eating that awful bird,
gone so white, it looked like curd.
The vet came over, took a taste,
gagged a little and made all haste
to tell his custard friend, Howard,
the custard cat had, in fact, soured.
***
Show me the chump that says only people with a respect for rhythm and metre should be allowed to attempt nonsense verse and I will show you a person who would not have survived in Nijni-Novgorod, even if he/she were a scratch player and had won Abe Mitchell's ribbed-face mashie in the weekend lottery. They would have their putters smashed ceremoniously over their gigantic egos and their golfing licenses revoked. Harsh punishment, you say? I think not.
who lived inside a custard can.
The custard man wore a shabby
hat and kept a custard tabby.
Then on June the twenty-third.
as he fed a custard bird
to the cat, it coughed and spat
all over Howard's custard hat.
Howard called the vet and he
said he'd been alarmed to see
his dearest pet, his cat o' custard,
normally a healthy shade of mustard,
had, on eating that awful bird,
gone so white, it looked like curd.
The vet came over, took a taste,
gagged a little and made all haste
to tell his custard friend, Howard,
the custard cat had, in fact, soured.
***
Show me the chump that says only people with a respect for rhythm and metre should be allowed to attempt nonsense verse and I will show you a person who would not have survived in Nijni-Novgorod, even if he/she were a scratch player and had won Abe Mitchell's ribbed-face mashie in the weekend lottery. They would have their putters smashed ceremoniously over their gigantic egos and their golfing licenses revoked. Harsh punishment, you say? I think not.
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