Drasty rym dogerel, 26/07/2011

In the Name of Our Ford

When you're tired of constant strife,
When you're job's just lost that tingle,
Don't despair of life -
Hum a corporation jingle!

Drasty rym dogerel, 26/07/2011

Pastoralia II

In glorious seclusion
Beneath the fading leaves,
A panoplied suffusion
Of sun he now perceives,
Who, sitting 'neath the bowers,
By nature now enraptured,
Thinks on angelic powers,
And by beauty is thus captured.
His philosophy is gentle
Who lives with rustic ease,
And in darkness fundamental
Admires the fragrant breeze.

Drasty rym dogerel, 08/07/2011

Quatrains with Few Brains
            -OR-
The Rubayyat of Tibbald Haram

I
Behold! For, writing in the deep of night,
The dreary hack now gives poetic fright:
And, given no request yet now to stop
Continues on in quatrains full of shite.

II
And standing early by the Press's way,
The hawking slebs wear their clothes all gay,
Hawking for a paragraph, or two, or more,
Their cuttings to their friends soon to display.

III
With Dullard's wit, Pressmen then opine,
Op'ning their works with flaccid, weary whine,
with deadly cliches sympathy to gain,
And show another their views are all refine.

IV
Then come with old Tibbald to some café
For interviews just off the Masses' way,
In which to dabble in an easy charm,
At which smug readers happily will bray.

V
What will suffice? Perhaps an interview,
A feature, a radio chat or two,
A documentary upon a worthy cause,
And being just a slice more famed than you.