Ode to Smidley
Sunday, August 23rd, 2009
‘Twas a morrowless night on yonder Didcot-field lain,
whence appeared thruft and twiften a maiden a-came,
wathed hair black as raven-cruft and eyes widdened
and bright,
she a-skipped and a-skopped under glistening
moonlight.
As I entrophed ‘pon this view, my heart grew a-flut,
and I beseeched to the vision, “lady,” I asked, “ist
thou a cheap slut?”
And whence those eyes dist lock upon [...]







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