Cuckoo!
Here are some bathetic poems that let you down with a bump. Some of them were started by famous poets.
Oh, cuckoo, shall I call thee bird,
Or but a wandering voice?
State the alternative preferred
With reasons for your choice.
Yet once more, O ye Laurels, and once more
I deliver the Telegraph under your door.
Blow, autumn wind, blow o’er the countryside
Blow my true love again to me, I cried.
It blew me only dust and dirt and rags
And bits of string and little paper bags.
H V Morton (Beachcomber)
Oh what a tangled web we weave
When first we practise to deceive.
The second time we’re much more smooth
And soon it all sounds like the truth.
He
was rich and old and she
Was
32 or 33.
She
gave him 15 years to live
And
that was all she meant to give.
It’s
hard to part with the one you love
When
your heart is full of hope,
But
harder still to find the towel
When
your eyes are full of soap.
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