MuNu Poetry
In keeping with what seems to be the custom round here, I will contribute what my mother claims to be a little piece of doggeral penned by Mr. Dennis Coot, er, Mr. John Keats:
The Sun shines down from meridian height
and illumins the depths of the sea.
Cry out the fishes, begining to sweat,
"Oh dammit, how hot we shall be!"
Wow.
My very first MT post and my very first time in the new Llama Butcher digs. I've no idea what half these buttons do, but it looks like I can scramble by on my Blogger skills for at least a little bit.
What else is there to say but Yip! Yip! Yip!
The Lama
Ogden Nash
The one-l lama,
He's a priest.
The two-l llama,
He's a beast.
And I will bet
A silk pajama
There isn't any
Three-l lllama.*
*The author's attention has been called to a type of conflagration known as a three-alarmer. Pooh.