A parrot was sick, yes quite chronic;
he took Henry's poems for a tonic.
He let out a squawk, now all people talk.
Supersonic he died on moronic.
The town of Henry's very own birth
wanted a tribute to this poet's worth.
They erected his statue
then someone sneezed, 'ka-choo! '
Henry dreamed the New World to see-a
on the Pinta, Nina, Santa Maria;
but that Columbus was such a strange fella,
when Herbie his own poems would yell-a
Gus the glutton whenever he was able
dined on Henry's pages of poems on the table.
He swilled them. He slurped them.
At high tea he burped them:
Henry desired the Nobel Prize.
In his eyes fine writing spelled lies.
He tried to steal the award
but took a slash from a sword
Shakespeare's character, Richard the Third
had a fondness for every turd.
Hernry's poems had the tone
-he wanted one for his own-
Henry tied his black cape on-(he's small)
Hung from wall, he'd enthrall at the ball!
Some actors were there,
Henry just couldn't care:
A man collapsed on the road.
Then a thief stole his wallet, I'm told.
The next pinched his key
and his left plastic knee.