Get Your 'Teef' Into Some Beef (Instant Poem) Poem by Paul Butters

Paul is manorial lord
Of the land around the ford
Where his cattle graze the sward
Which grows from soil well stored
With food from the river broad.

And what fine animals they are
As if from some heavenly star.
They are fleshy and muscular;
Fit for a king, pope, or a szar.

To his herds he does tend
And for them he does fend.
But Alas! Comes the End:
For Beef he does them send.


(W) and (C) 20\3\1969. (One of my earliest exercises with verse) .