Reptilian Romance (Part Two) Poem by Tom Billsborough

Her mates were learning how to crawl.
It really sent them up the wall,
Sad Anaconda wails
For rearing once upon their tails
They reached the tops of trees so tall...

It pricked her conscience to the quick,
For just before her dirty trick
On Eve had led to this.
No wonder snakes go 'hiss'
At passing legs that march so slick!

But God had ruled in his still small voice
But rather louder, tinged with malice,
That snakes must slide on ribs
While making for their local pubs.
No fault of theirs but they had no choice.

For human kind it's not so bad..
Crawling back they're awful glad
To reach their home at all
Or at a lamp-post stall,
Their random songs both bright or sad.