Sunday, December 28, 2008

Verse And Worse

Random Wit, Errant Rhyme. Not A Literary Crime

Woe betide me if Grandmother Fletcher
Sacked me and hired a different etcher
Where will I paint with such deep feelings?
Pray tell, are there any more Sistine ceilings?

5 comments:

Craig Glenn said...

How sad, young Fletcher, canned
His shame, touted through out the land.
Sistine ceilings, ambitions quite large
Perhaps he could start with my garage!

Bart said...

Methinks you chose the wrong Miss Fletcher?
What about the criminal catcher?
You know the one from Cabot Cove?
There's a town where mortality rates dove!

SandyCarlson said...

Blow out the candle
And take yourself to bed
The Sistine will be there for you
Long after Granny Fletcher is dead.

Maggie May said...

So you're the one that daubs the paint
All over church roofs that are so quaint!
Grannie Fletcher trained you up?
Well stop it! We have had enough!

Lee said...

LOL Knowing absolutely nothing about Granny Fletcher, I googled her. Thus I came across the story of Perry Fletcher a.k.a. Fletcher the Etcher. His work sounds lovely. Do you have any examples of it you can share?

Cheers! & Happy New Year!