Flying Potatoes

Flying Potatoes By The Potato of Terror 28/3/05; revised 1/2/14 Flying potatoes permeate my days, Float gently through the attic of my brain; Winging their way through smoochy summer haze And tapping tarantellas in the rain. I want to romp where tuber dreams ignite, Where pomp is caught with naughty circumstance; I yearn to flit where reverie takes flight And lunacy leads love a merry dance. Flying potatoes infiltrate my nights, Making me dream of all unnatural things; Like evil gnomes in capes and fishnet tights And Maris Pipers with great scaly wings. Flying potatoes tell me "Be afraid! We are such dreamers as would stuff a maid!" * (*With apologies to Shakespeare)