Once Isobel came upon Beelzebubs advocate,
The likes of which she had never met.
Equivocation was his mastery and lament
Altering reality with every comment.
Hi there he said, well how very pleased I am to meet you!
With my fulsome tongue I will defeat you!
Isobel, Isobel didn’t worry,
Isobel didn’t scream or scurry.
Her mystery of his mastery became her game,
And her dignity and self-esteem she did reclaim.
Isobel met a friend and colleague
Who was bewildered then bemused by the vine-plague.
He realised that pseudomorhous’s sanctuary was a glass cage,
And decided to recompense himself of the malign.
He became wrapped up in constructs of reality,
The results of which he could not foresee.
His mystery was Isobel’s mastery
With which Isobel escaped to sanctuary.
Beware of how you associate with Isobel
The outcome of which you can never tell
A rolling stone gathers no moss
But the master of the rock is the Albatross