I love poetry (BYRON BYRON BYRON BYRON BYRON BYRON BYR
ON BYRON BYRON). And ever since that miniseries on the Pre-Raphaelites came out last year I have had naughty dreams about Rossetti (but who doesn't?). That said, I don't want to be a poet's bitch. Look what happened to Caroline Lamb and Lizzy Siddal. So, I've decided to write more poetry myself. Here's one I've written about my dog Bridey. One of my more original pieces, I think.
The Collie
Collie! Collie! slightly fat
On the lounge room rug you’re sat,
What nommy treat will you try
To sate thy fearful appetite? In which distant neighbour’s home
Did you bury your pork bone?
On whose lawn did last you poo?
Where did you hide my ballet shoe? And what brush, and what spray,
Could take the burrs out of your tail?
And, when thy bark begins to sound,
What dread hand forged thee fluffy hound? What the collar? What the chain?
In what smelly thing hast thou lain?
What the flea spray? What furry paws
Jump and leap about my horse? When you smile you drool a bit,
My feet are water'd with your spit.
Did you smile your work to see?
The hole dug underneath that tree? Collie! Collie! slightly fat
On the lounge room rug you’re sat,
What nommy treat will you try
To sate thy fearful appetite?
********* I have far too much time on my hands. :(
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