Poetry for the Cheesy Snipe

Peter picked 

A pilly pipe 

A porty pry 

And a cheesy Snipe 

And ate them 

All very fast 

To ensure At finishing 

He was not last 

However 

No one should rush 

A porty pry 

They can make you rather sick 

A chap could die.

And now Peter groans

In his bed 

Covered in blotches 

that are 

Large

and

RED