Monday, 19 September 2011

Lay Grouter, Three Fingers Deep

He escaped to the door that first came to his eye
Wherein came the sounds mostly fraught
Of grown men in battle with wild, rusty words
For Grouter had come to the court

The judge was a Peedle, a full-feathered bird
That ate only the cream from ├ęclair
And though there resulted no manner of flight
The Peedle was known to be fair

Nesting twice yearly on old varnished wood
In a nest made from wigs and a sock
Known for her wisdom her first ever judgement
Had been to send all the lawyers to the block

A barber before her had brought forth his case
Of an employee who never replied
For though he had told his always sad news
The employee had never yet cried

The Peedle then asked for the employee to say
In defence of his lack of commotion
(For in the town where happiness was ever on hand
It was hateful to show no emotion)

But the employee refused and moved not a limb
Preferring instead his own silence
A stance that in turn drove the barber to shout
And threaten the employee with violence

The case here before us, the Peedle announced
Is perhaps of them all the most witless
Yet you condemn yourself roundly by your demonstration
Of the crime that all here now witness

The Peedle announced in the barber’s favour
But elected to point out, to be fair
That though the accused was dipped in his guilt
The employee was also a chair

The chair it was sentenced to hang by its neck
From the tree that stood tall by the gate
And there every morning the crowd that would gather
The chair they would sharply berate

The chair was so served and was hung by the neck
But when came the time to be so berated
The chair had escaped far into the night
For the chair and the tree were related.

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