XPost: alt.religion.wicca, alt.arts.poetry.comments, alt.writing   
   XPost: alt.magick   
   From: rre@mla001.demon.co.uk   
      
   In message , Robin Sommo   
    writes   
   >   
   ><...>   
   >Shez >  writes   
   ><...>   
   >> >Dyslexics tend to be orally brilliant if they are confident people,   
   >> >though they do have a tendency to stutter or come out with the most   
   >> >amazing spoonerisms when tired...   
   ><...>   
   >   
   >Rob!  Post the poem!  You know, the one from the poster!  Please?  It's just   
   >so right!   
   >   
   Anything for you, ma'am.   
      
   The Early Chicken Butters No Moss   
      
   Maud has a wayward way with a word,   
   absurd and awkward aphorisms   
   are born bewildered when she speaks.   
      
   She and the English language reach   
   for each other warily and finally,   
   when they touch, strange sparks fly free.   
      
   For her, an itch in time saves none,   
   an ill wind blows a dog a bad bone   
   and a wise stone knows to roll its own.   
      
   She'd never cross a bridge before it's burned,   
   she'd never leave a worm unturned   
   in her search for the unvanished truth.   
      
   Her sole contribution to economic theory   
   is to say that the reckless spending of money   
   should be avoided … at any cost.   
      
   If this woman were ever drowning,   
   downing for the third time, I swear   
   her whole loaf would flush before her thighs.   
      
   Listen to her and, after a while,   
   the surreal becomes so real it starts   
   to make a terrible kind of sense.   
      
   Maud, of course would disagree. She says:   
   storks and stains can break your brains   
   but words can never charm you.   
      
   Rob   
      
   --   
   Rob Evans   
   Poetry is the needle that pricks your finger.   
   Everything else is the haystack.   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)