Today's poems [3.7.07]

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Roses are redish,
Violets are blueish,
If it wasn't for Christmas,
We'd all be Jewish.

There once was an old man of Esser,
Whose knowledge grew lesser and lesser,
It at last grew so small
He knew nothing at all,
And now he's a college professor.

There once was a Bishop of Treet
Who decided to be indiscreet,
But after one round
To his horror he found
You repeat, and repeat, and repeat.

A pansy who lived in Khartoum
Took a lesbian up to his room,
And they argued all night
Over who had the right
To do what, and with which, and to whom.

There was a young man named Wyatt
whose voice was exceedingly quiet
And then one day
it faded away...

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