More useless poesy

[Kim.Salazar@em.doe.gov]

    As bards, our own Leifr and Corun
    Will rhyme at the drop of a florin
    Limricks they'll draft
    Till we all go daft
    And beg "Please you two, no more'n."

    For fun, they'll alight on some sod
    With features amusingly odd
    They'll jibe at his nose,
    Ears, ankles or toes.
    (Pray heavens, they fish for no Cod).

    They serve up their final grand poem
    With reverence befitting a tome
    Each slice's a smile
    Sauced with good guile
    So we eat Best at the 'Rose (not at home).


    -Ianthe                   kim.salazar@em.doe.gov