Imitation being the sincerest form of flattery -- and seeing that W'ON and jazzo have elsewhere just now resurrected our shared love of poety:

Let's start a game along the lines of "link the lyrics", but using poetry, preferably humous poetry. One thought: it may be well to make each link a bit longer, to leave more "hooks" for the next poster.

To begin:

Canary-birds feed on sugar and seed,
Parrots have crackers to crunch;
And, as for the poodles, they tell me the noodles
Have chickens and cream for their lunch.
But there's never a question
About my digestion---
Anything does for me!

-- The Camel's Complaint by Charles E. Carryl

[I'm betting we'll get a lot of Ogden Nash here, eh, W'ON? ]

The Ball no Question makes of Ayes and Noes,
But Right or Left, as strikes the Player goes;
And He that toss'd Thee down into the Field,
*He* knows about it all---He knows---HE knows!


From the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam



k

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled on Casey's lip.
.
.
The sneer is gone from Casey's lips, his teeth are clenched in hate,
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate;
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh! somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,
But there is no joy in Mudville-mighty Casey has struck out!

--Casey At The Bat by Ernest Lawrence Thayer

A little maiden climbed an old man's knee,
Begged for a story, "Do, Uncle, Please."
"Why are you lonely, why do you roam?
Have you no sweetheart, have you no home?"

"I had a sweetheart, long long ago
Why we were not wed, you soon
shall know. List to my story, I'll tell it all.
I broke her heart, pet, after the ball."

After the ball is over, just at the break of dawn,
After the dance is ended, and all the stars are gone.
Many the heart that's aching, if you could read them all.
Many the fond hope that's vanished, after the ball.

Her eyes were shining, in the big ballroom,
Softly the organ was playing a tune.
There stood my sweetheart, my love, my own
Wishing some water, I left the room.

When I returned, pet, there stood a man
Kissing my sweetheart, as lovers can.
Down went the glass, pet, broke in the fall,
Just as my heart was, after the ball.

After the ball is over, just at the break of dawn,
After the dance is ended, and all the stars are gone.
Many the heart that's aching, if you could read them all.
Many the fond hope that's vanished, after the ball.

Many years have gone by; I have not wed -
True to my sweetheart, though she is dead.
She tried to tell me, tried to explain.
I would not listen, pleading in vain.

One day a letter came from this man.
He was her brother, the letter ran.
That's why I'm lonely, no home at all -
I broke her heart, pet, after the ball.

After the ball is over, just at the break of dawn,
After the dance is ended, and all the stars are gone.
Many the heart that's aching, if you could read them all.
Many the fond hope that's vanished, after the ball.

Charles K. Harris