Sunday, August 19, 2007

The Ballad of Artie Brown

Lettuce bow our heads awhile,
And pray for Artie Brown.
He’d bean a gardener till asphyx-
Iation struck him down.

He was a strong, yet peas-ful man,
Gave thanks for what he got.
Often seen down by the stream,
He used to fi-shallot.

He’d often spinach-eery yarn
To folk who’d stop and speak,
And, e’er the Good Samaritan,
He fixed the church roof leek.

We berry him with tearful hearts
And reddened eyes and noses,
And, yes, it would beetroot to say,
He’ll fertilise the roses.

He mint to do more with his thyme,
He didn’t drink or smoke.
A curse upon that herring bone
That made poor Artie choke!

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