Thursday, 24 March 2016

Time for a laugh

These few lines won me £100 in a humorous verse competition a while ago. See if it makes you smile.

     It was the second prize. I seem to make a habit of them, even going right back to schooldays, when I was always coming second to the class swot.

     All Sheep were once Black

Signor Stradivarius 

thought it quite nefarious

that his rivals in Cremona, 

when seeking a string donor, 

would eviscerate a cat. 

Oh, he never would do that - 

being fond of furry things - 

so, when seeking fiddle-strings, 

he would take his coat and hat, 

murmur "Chee-aaaoooow"  to his cat 

and visit friend Edmundo 

(a fine basso profundo

and, after they had wined and dined, 

tell Ed what he had in mind. 

"Amico, you've a flock so fine, 

the best in all the Appennine. 

Now when you next go to the butcher's 

(I know the surgeons need their sutures) 

but save a bit of gut for me, 

to make my fiddle-strings, you see." 

Ed boomed, "Ha! You praise my sheep 

to get your cat-gut on the cheap. 

But, since it's you, I'll let you have it. 

Ever thought of trying rabbit?"

And soon, in Strad's old fiddle shop 

the ringing tills would never stop, 

as fiddlers came from far and near. 

Cat-gut, you see, was far too dear. 

Cats are wary; cats are quick; 

they've smelled their cousins on a fiddle-stick! 

Sheep are kept inside a fence, 

so using sheep-gut makes more sense.

Strad's technological revolution 

has left its mark on evolution. 

The frightened sheep have all turned white, 

but cats can walk the streets at night.

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