|Praise Whistlers Abroad
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|Author:||Walden [ Tue Jun 27, 2006 10:36 am ]|
|Post subject:||a poem|
A bull went through a China shop,
And knocked the plates about,
Not lumbering or clumsily,
He aimed to take things out.
He aimed his horns at serving bowls,
Because they might have lead,
And trampled on the bone China,
Since it contained things dead.
No cowboy could constrain the bull,
Who'd cry and balk and buck,
And utter poisoned vicious words,
And spread about the muck.
He'd go to other China shops,
And say "That China there
Attacked me just for being me,
But things are better here."
|Author:||KittyR [ Tue Jun 27, 2006 12:14 pm ]|
Ha! Excellent, Walden.
|Author:||Jim Wright [ Tue Jun 27, 2006 4:06 pm ]|
we don't let our bulls in the shops around here ... must be from OK
|Author:||ConnieS [ Tue Jun 27, 2006 9:12 pm ]|
Good one, Walden.
|Author:||Judy K [ Tue Jun 27, 2006 11:24 pm ]|
I love it!!
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