From: edwardbelsky@worldnet.att.net   
      
   Joe Fineman  wrote in message   
   news:uejomzvvk.fsf@verizon.net...   
   > Omitted from the book:   
   >   
   > Here lie the bones of poor John Flory;   
   > His story was the old, old story.   
   > Money, women, cards and gin   
   > Were the four things that did him in.   
   >   
   > He has spent sweat enough to swim in   
   > Making love to stupid women;   
   > He has known misery past thinking   
   > In the dismal art of drinking.   
   >   
   > O stranger, as you voyage here   
   > And read this welcome, shed no tear;   
   > But take the single gift I give,   
   > And learn from me how not to live.   
   > --   
   > ---  Joe Fineman    joe_f@verizon.net   
      
   I find rhyming very hard.  I wrote this:   
      
   The Master Builder   
      
   Hawksmoor suspended half as high as God   
   Outspoken bells to ring on and on   
   And dismay the postlapsarian blood   
   Of Londoners who heard the carillon.   
      
   Clubfooted bells maketh heavy weather   
   And aggrandize to ejaculation.   
   Terror and awe arise from no further   
   Than the beams of the church's elevation.   
      
   Bells belabor, walls absorb, galleries   
   Balloon with the beholden from the street.   
   Incorporated into Christ, calories   
   (Stuck there.)   
      
   ED   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)