I'm pigeonholing the dreary marriage tale for these two gems someone sent me. I think I want to be a poet, mom!
I know him well, his name is Lang,
He has a 'lectric sign.
And since old Lang is VERY old,
We call it Old Lang's Sign.
A dreamy little poet
Sailed off to a south sea isle.
He met a girl named Laurie
Who smote him with her smile.
Often she would dance for him.
She was his closest pal
But no one ever told him
That she was a cannibal gal.
So one fine day she ate him -
A pity! But that's his fate.
How sad to be remembered
As the poet Laurie ate.
And while on the topic, here's something said to be from an old manuscript found in a barn in America.
Two pumpkins lay in yellow wood,
And sorry I could not harvest both
And one pie make, long I stood
And looked over one as best I could
To where it anchored in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was brassy and wanted air;
Though as for that the sunning there
Had ripened them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another pie!
Yet knowing how many pies end in the sty,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence;
Two pumpkins in a field stood, and I - -
I took the lesser for my pie,
And that has made all the difference.
Some feel this is a cheap imitation of the master's work, but most scholars agree that this is the real Frost on the Pumpkin!