Lymerick

While the fairy was growing her tail
And the ogre was drooling a wail
There’s that troll up on top
Of the dragon. We stop
To enjoy all that’s solid yet frail.

The prince eyed the princess with fright
then took off out into the night
for her nose was as big
as the foot of a pig
and her eyes were a terrible sight

There are those who enjoy a pig’s nose.
It is roundish and soft as it goes.
It is big and it’s there
When it’s raised in the air
When the pigs win the prize in the shows.

Now Percy the prizewinning pig
enjoyed nothing more than to dig
his truffling nose
was the talk of the shows
and made father's bank balance quite big.

' course a pig is big in the nose
but a fact not everyone knows
It's the sniffing about
he does with his snout
that ensures it grows and it grows

The more a pig sniffles and snuffles
The more likely it is to find truffles.
From dirt to pig's nose
To the gentry it goes,
Who like pigs greet such eats with kerfuffles.

When it’s dark is when stars can be bright.
I reflect on the skylights of night
And the shine of the day
Alternating. A play
That won’t end till it all turns out right.

There was a white Dick named Moby
Who swam o'er the watery Gobi.
Pursued by the Jedi--
But wait, I forget I
Speak not here of Obi Kenobie!

There was a young lady from Lanzhou
Who strummed with her thumb on the banjo.
She sat in the kitchen,
With the fair Dinah, b*tchin'
'Bout some sly railroad worker named Sancho.

There was a young lady named Jane
Who'd stick by her Dick shine or rain;
She would show him her Spot
Till his heartstrings were caught,
Then for fun, "Run, Dick, Run!" she'd exclaim.

Splashing water hangs tightly in drops
Running wildly until splashing stops.
Run and know that this now
Is entangled somehow
With more joy when the pain smiles and pops.

The problem with going too fast
when the raindrops are falling at last
is that slippery ground
makes your feet slide around
causing pain when you land on your ***

My *** oft complains of its load,
And frankly the thing's getting old.
Yet as spring turns to autumn,
I'll hold onto my bottom
As we pass down the darkening road.

My butt is quite jolly and plump.
When it rains or when I hit a lump
It’s my butt that lands first
Though my mouth shouts the curse
It’s my butt big and round with the bump.

Change that is rhythmically sound
Reminds us that time runs around
Like a seasonal wheel.
Endless cycles conceal
What is firm giving thanks for the ground.