A recalcitrant poetry critic
who was harsh and a bit analytic
was the colour of custard
but the hot taste of mustard
I prefer either Jack or Glenfiddich.
He produced a great poem or two
which gave all the poets a clue
and they figured him smart
but he was an old fart
I'll go back to my digeridoo.
Funny one! I'm learning so many new words lately....(comments below) . I love it. Sincerely, Mary
A poem about an old fart always attracts my attention. Interesting piece you've written, Herbert!
Sounds like he was a Dawplucker with custard on his face Warm regards Allan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Herbert, when referring to old farts, you didn't mean moi, did you? How cruel.