Bounder Flounder
There was a bounder,who was founder of a fishin' club,
and there he spent both day and night with the sport that he did lubbed,
and then one day he caught a flounder that was starry scaled,
so large magestic was this fish by others it did pale.
Then came Greyhame near the bounder, as he reeled and creeled the flounder,
he said "Throw back that fish and I'll give you one wish," said Greybeard to the bounder.
So in the drink the fish did sink, as the bounder thought of wishes, and fishes,
and finally he turned to Greyhame, and said, "What do I need of wishes?"
I have my pole my fishin club, my time for fishing all day long,
what more could I wish for, I am happy, I'll just catch more fish for how can I go wrong?"
Greyhame to the bounder, that released the flounder back into the lake,
said "Verily my hobbit friend, your words no truer spake!
And just for that I'll grant a wish, that seems often unspoke,
my friend bounder, all your days will be flounder, and fish
that is no joke!"
Ode to a smelly old Boot; Oh Onion Skins
'Oh onionskins glistening in the morning dew,
in with you to the boot of pewww..
Odorus shoeleather waifs beyond,
and knocking flat smellers known and anon...'
To pick you up by such boot straps,
means you've filled your yap,
with gallons and gallons of corn squeezings,
your boots waif in the breezings..
it's smells causing ailments and diseasing.
The Gaffer's Ingredients
Odiferously divine, onions and garlic,
two fine foods, that doth reek,
eat them one day and smell for a week,
and you will be having people holding their beak.
Oh Sleepy Hobbit
Oh Sleepy Hobbit, your eyes do grow sandy,
why not have a snifter of brandy,
Now you wobble as you walk,
and slur your words while you talk,
perhaps tis sleep that you must go?
To dream perchance of fine pie dough?
Ah yes awaken for early breakfasts,
and then first and seconds, then the last...
and eat a snack after your repast.
Then chance upon, a fishing pole,
and head on out to the Bindpoles,
to cast at-least your line in the river,
and watch as the wormy bait does quiver
catching a limit then head in for brunch,
a fine beginning to elevensies and lunch.
A walk out to the grain waving fields,
to see what bread-stuff those crops will yield,
but knowing better as you do,
the barley will become ale, and not some stew.
Afternoons, then early tea
Supper Dinner, and a snack or three...
then sandy eyes come again,
and we are back once more where we began.
Fishing "Seasons"
for every reel in, weeds weeds weeds,
I got a feelin, I'll catch weeds weeds weeds....
and I wont get many fish, until elevensies...
I time to nap, a time for lunch,
I'll have an apple, then fish a bunch..
A time to til, but not today,
I'm here to fish most every day..
So.. for every Reel in, weeds weeds weeds,
I got a feelin, more weeds weeeds weeeeeds...
and I wont get many fish, until elevensies.....
Scary Spiders
in the Quarry, out in Scary,
is some spiders fat and fine,
if you want to, you can squash em,
and then dunk em in Turpentine...
oh my spider oh my spider
oh my spiders in the mines,
ripe for shootin with some arrows
dreadful sorrows for thier spines.
... and apologies to Clementine.....
Can't Trust your Gaffer
oh ya cant trust your gaffer when he's baking apple pie,
he might add in garlic, as a taste he did not try,
oh ya cant trust your gaffer when cooking up a storm,
what you think is spaghetti just might really be worms...
Oh ya cant trust your gaffer when making a custard,
specially when he goes out to the garden for mustard...
Oh it could be nice, it might be sweet,
but truth be told it smells like dwarf's feet...
Bo's Ale
he was weaked peaked, looking pale and frail
when old Bohunk heard the ale was stale,
Alas things were still well,
he'd borrow apple wine from good old Fel'
to think and drink a bit of wine,
yep that for Bo woudl be just fine,
but to get the bottle away from an elf,
well thats like calling harm to ones self!
Crafty sneaky he must be, to convince the elf to hug a tree,
while he slips the bottle gently away,
and dashes while shouting " I cannot stay!"'
By the time Fel notices, Bo will be long gone,
along with the wine, and lie down for a yawn,
and no more worries or cares of stale ale,
just a nice nap and all will be well.
