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Enforced Conformity
The grass blades all reach for the Sun,
Come my mower, and they are undone.
At the end, I espy
One tall blade I passed by,
So I bend and I yank that last one.
So here all the lawns flat and green
Find their place in a communal mean.
Though the scene is aflood
With grass juice and bug blood,
The result is pronounced to be clean.
Come my mower, and they are undone.
At the end, I espy
One tall blade I passed by,
So I bend and I yank that last one.
So here all the lawns flat and green
Find their place in a communal mean.
Though the scene is aflood
With grass juice and bug blood,
The result is pronounced to be clean.
The dirtier side of lawn mowing?
I spent years writing limericks and forcing them into meters that didn't quite work. Here, you switch meter here and there. The one you use on the second line is actually the proper one. Rhymes are all clean. Not really anything else to say, as it's a straightforward joke. Amusing and a pretty good effort.
I spent years writing limericks and forcing them into meters that didn't quite work. Here, you switch meter here and there. The one you use on the second line is actually the proper one. Rhymes are all clean. Not really anything else to say, as it's a straightforward joke. Amusing and a pretty good effort.