Marching Boots

Marching Boots Tight marching boots Like those of a ghost Or eerie Owl that hoots Yet he met the cost! He hobbles oversized Left is like on the right- Like a ship capsized Or Lilliputian at flight! Smell is hereby brewed No wonder a poor Frog Lured by the tang rude Mistook it for fetid bog! What then is like wet rot Emitted from the foot Is it or is it not Flesh in a rotting boot? How would one wear Cauldron of a plastic Easily submitting to tear Yet vaunted synthetic? Have they been polished Or simply hastily shod Would it be admonished By hygiene’s strict rod? When boots we abuse, Putting on the wrong size, Corns we loudly accuse Forgetting tight device! JM 27th Nov’ 2013