"We're held at fort! So spare a thought, to let us from the siege?"
"I think we have toilet you go! You're held at fault my liege!"
"Don't be obscene! we've all latrine, with affluence awash...
No influence of effluence will ever this siege quash!"
"With hurled effort we’ve held our fort: the foe left off deterred…
So, hold that thought this paper’s wrought: unleash what is le turd!”
“With aching sides, we’ve dire rear, made worse by this affront…
And undeterred besiegers wade, bogged down not at current!”
“It seems at sauce they hold their course in panning for your gold…
It’s been afloat you’ve gorged your throat to hide groats massed untolled!
"You think this rout’s for unpaid routes? travelling’s end, travails?
It’s not our fault! It’s all your fault, for telling, what entails!”
“Shan’t be your fort for too long now, though neither is it ours…
But, let off farce; politely ask: through imp-asse we’d haul powers!”
“To collar-a true ally now… we’re dying to see you!
And all your airs and graces, friends, we’d never now pooh-pooh!”…
Indeed, the titled turbulence rough-haughty thousands slew!
Don't worry! This is this rudest rhyme I've written, and I doubt there'll be more dodgy doggerel.
ReplyDeleteThis poem was inspired by looking down on Dorking sewage works from Box Hill: effluence in such an affluent area, seen from a fort-like viewing point sealed the scene. The absurdity of English soldiers hauled up in French castles during the Hundred Years War was amusingly inverted in Monty Pythons Quest for the Holy Grail too, the secondary inspiration for this Mediaeval farce.