Tuesday, 16 February 2016

A Poetic Warning About Man's Greed

Pal the micky finly flock
As mill the glow a bisky Rock
And all the brush as pink as be
Awash the mulsk and broostum sea
Waiting among the flushion trees
Hiding from the honey bees
Swelping a clust of single malt
To calm the mind to a tempelious Halt
Tell the rusbar of the drust
And the treasure of which men talk and lust
But the grimble curse will bright its way
Mens hands will not on the treasure play
The grimble curse means certain death
A unresting pleasium and man's last breath
So tether the hills and snit the jib
And sail away across the nib
To tell the tale of the plested Gold
So far yet so close in your hands to hold
And beareth the grue and slip the flue
Better to live than scrimple in stew
So heed the tale and walk in gloom
Than smickle riches 
and the path 
of Doom


  1. That poem was as cool as fiddlers fiddle, but did you know that you can't spell pirates without a RAT in the middle.

    Well Cool!

    1. I have not thought about Pirates and RATs Mr H.

      I am glad you liked the poem I was thinking of doing a few more based on the same idea. in other words based on almost gibberish.

      Oooooo tomorrow is a big big day indeed. Hopefully I will get to write about it tomorrow evening.

  2. Ah, Mr. Rob!

    Most interesting. I felt like I was reading a bit of Willie Shakespeare who was like tripping on some sort of intoxicating medication. Nicely done, my surreal friend.


    1. Thank you Mr G it is not often I get compared to a drug crazed Shakespeare. I feel I may be heading in the right direction with my writing.