There once was a writer doggerel
Whose writing sounded as if you should gargle.
Rhymes and diphthongs
The words never got along
Sounding like the speech of a mongrel.
The fox said, pointing to the open field, “Maybe that’s where the cow jumped over the moon. Which brings up the philosophical question: Why did the cow jump over the moon?”
“Because it was trying to avoid the cattle drive.”
“But cows can’t drive,” the fox said.
“Cows can’t fly, either,” said the chicken hurriedly crossing the road.
There once was a writer of verse
Who had a wish so perverse.
He put pen to paper
And hoped he’d become Satyr,
But what he became was even much worse.
He had hooves, horns, and some hide
Enough to frighten his would-be bride.
When he glanced in the mirror,
He couldn’t have looked any queerer
Even with the nannies by his side.