[John Whitworth]

My guffaw comes from Marcus, but that just goes to show, doesn't it?

[Brian Allgar]

Originally Posted by John Whitworth

My guffaw comes from Marcus, but that just goes to show, doesn't it?

I enjoyed them both, John, but Ann probably hadn't seen Marcus's piece - she and he both posted at 9:51.

[Graham King]

(1) Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll.
…
One, two! One, two! And through and through
Its talons slashed and wide maw gnashed!
It left him dead, and with his head
To munch on, back it dashed.

“And hast thou slain my beamish boy?”
He quoke in terror as it neared,
Its nostrils bent on their home-scent:
“’Tis just as I had feared!”

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Were gathered up and swallowed whole:
Next courses? Potage Borogoves,
And the Mome Raths Casserole.


[‘He quoke’ is no typo but a spelling intended to combine ‘quaked’ and ‘spoke’.]

[Brian Allgar]

Excellent, Graham! I'm having trouble thinking of a piece suitable for the treatment, but you've hit on a good one.

[Rob Stuart]

Very nice, Graham. I've been trying a 'Snark' myself but can't yet get it to work. In the meantime I offer this:

AND did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England’s mountains green?
And was the Holy Lamb of God
On England’s pleasant pastures seen?

It’s likely that the answer’s ‘no’,
Or so I would have thought. JC’s
Agenda would have been too full
To go on jollies overseas.

A trip to Britain in those days
Was pretty hard. They hadn’t yet
Invented package holidays,
Bureaux de change or EasyJet.


Still needs a polish and probably a fourth stanza.

[Marcus Sevat]

It's good Rob, but Blake's done the entire first stanza for you. It won't beat Bill G. that way.

.

[Brian Allgar]

The Mariner shuts up at last;
His eye is bleak and rheumy;
His senile stance, his countenance
Impenetrably gloomy.

The wedding-guest is sorely pressed,
And irked by pointless chatter.
‘Look here, old chap, this rambling crap
Won’t fill a single platter.

I’m making lunch for quite a bunch;
The guests are getting stroppy.
I’ve heard your story, sometimes gory,
Sometimes rather soppy;

Your tale was fun, but I must run -
The cooks are at a loss.
I’m needed there to help prepare
The roasted Albatross.’