|
Post by Daphne on Sept 24, 2011 10:49:10 GMT
Wendy the wonder cow was the pride of her owner's eye standing fatly in the fields head held high a giant among cows a lump of cowflesh to be proud of and a major producer of milk and veal cutlets via her poor sons then one fine sad day she slipped on a giant cowpat and fell over loudly and lay there in pain with a broken hip so the farmer put a bullet between her eyes and called the knacker's yard where she got turned into dogfood (premium branded) sic transit gloria vaccae
|
|
|
Post by alex on Sept 27, 2011 19:56:11 GMT
Poor Wendy. Very sad poem. I like cows AND goats.
|
|
|
Post by Daphne on Sept 27, 2011 22:50:18 GMT
But not on the same plate.
|
|
|
Post by 4gemini7 on Jun 4, 2014 21:15:04 GMT
Wonderfully random!
|
|
|
Post by Daphne on Jun 25, 2014 18:28:03 GMT
Not so much random. I fear you don't know what the word means! A "random poem" would mean a poem selected at random, in a situation where all poems in the collection from which it was selected had an equal chance of being selected.
|
|
|
Post by 4gemini7 on Aug 22, 2014 20:02:09 GMT
Although I have the utmost respect for your intellect and what I perceive to be your formal education I fear that you are unaware that language constantly evolves. The word random now has many applications so I stand by what I said. Your poem is wonderfully random. Where I come from that counts as a compliment.
|
|