Fiddleeebod

The silly man danced to the door
and sang to me gratitude for
clothes he could wear on his nose
to aid it whenever it froze

I laughed from my place on the floor
and sang my own thanks and much more,
especially for my garden hose
to spray silly men when I chose

‘Ho ho, that’s neither or nor,’
said the wet silly man at the door,
‘My socks may be wet, I suppose,
but dry is my finely clothed nose.’

Filed under:
General by Steve