Best Abbe Poems
The king and the cripple all day.
Whilst awake they must make hay.
Men must allay; not dabble like the abbe.
Even if they make child's play,
the king and the cripple have cache,
for one other day's living' per se.
A king must be wary,
and with excellence must parry,
all the privileges thrown his way.
Like the lame use crutches to stay,
upright; both need to sway.
But when men don't sway,
they stagnate long parts of the day,
including the parts that they just lay.
A minor comment may cause dismay;
these men, with great scope battery array,
need a push to stop dilly-dally with no allay.
intergalactic intention in a dress or a suitcase in a suit
One day a beef stew met a cattle grid cinema created from a sieve. It was very very interesting to note that the larger pieces remained whilst the smaller fell through. Intergalactic intercorrellated interfaces interacting. And the swipe if an infectious cleaning spray. With cloth. Giggle giggling. Like hee hee with a dramatic jam that has escaped a jar. A little bit of time on the beach is equivalent to an hour under a forty foot waterfall. But kissing a baker in a shop is a learning curve that ultimately makes a nice circle in which to make a cake. Great. But the residue from a frog sandwich can omit strong odours so never consume that when wearing a kilt or a satisfactory sari. It is rather fascinating to note that a milligram of abbe paste withdrew the swarm of bees and flew off in a north easterly force direction. As pure as driving a cart across a dried out lake. Migratory movements made Mademoiselle de la coute. And a fluted glass arrived singing the song for the deities of the clouds and living rooms of the horses. Fantastic news for the geraniums in the toilet block. Growing. Hahha a higgle is jiggling. Hahaha a mug juggling tea. Xxxxxxx sanctimonious Z Z Z Z Z