Down to verse (1056)
As Tennyson
As Tennyson,
He imagined a moaning,
A moaning of the bar
When he set out.
He cautioned against it,
But lost his soul
In the caution
Which none attended.
posted by Mauberly | 6:29 AM
Mauberly
An unwise owl has a hoot. All work herein copyrighted.
About Me
- Name: Mauberly
Mauberl*y- A critical ‘*’ I oft*n I lack- So I can’t sp*ll ‘r*st’ too w*ll; My b*at may tak* anoth*r tack- As I cours* away from h*ll. Hoo hah. (S*lah) Thus my nam* falls short, As do*s my n*arsight, And my rhym*s do oft abort.
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