Sunday, August 5, 2007


There was a newt called Kinker,
Of laughable repute.
He wasn’t a deep thinker,
Nor ‘specially astute.

He sat upon the water’s edge,
Upon a leafy frond,
And from the green and luscious hedge,
He gazed upon the pond.

He told the water to recede,
Upon that summer’s day,
For it was what he had decreed
And so it must obey.

Alas, the newt was bound to fail,
The pond just lay there, mute.
And that is the sad, sorry tale
Of mad old Kinker Newt.

No comments: