My Cyclopean, Fire-Breathing, Cider-Swilling Llama Friend
Wednesday, March 19th, 2008Once upon a time I took groats to my groat-loving llama friend
And often I mistook shadows for my child-saving llama friend
To one such shade I talked and I, by my local school teacher, stalked
“So you took our oats, oaf”, pointed to rotting pile, angrily, quoth
Only a fool could think! my humble offer does the llama eat!
For groats and oats are food fit only for horse and man and meals, crude
No, my llama friend be with or without my sweetened gift of feed
And often I mistook shadows for my child-saving llama friend
To one such shade I talked and I, by my local school teacher, stalked
“So you took our oats, oaf”, pointed to rotting pile, angrily, quoth
Only a fool could think! my humble offer does the llama eat!
For groats and oats are food fit only for horse and man and meals, crude
No, my llama friend be with or without my sweetened gift of feed
Oh, the days I do miss he’d make a bully crawl, or a girl kiss
It cost only a call to wish, to will, to watch the teacher fall
But one meal was not sweet not cabbage, nor beans, but a loathsome beet
I wished as I might call but none unsweet, not even beets, would fall
Only a fool could think! a llama greets me from the kitchen sink!
For far and forgot be for him as near as cider and glass be
Yes, my llama friend be though nary a place you can hope to see