(With profuse apologies to Edward Lear)
The Trowel and the Pussy Cake
Pussy said to the trowel, you elegant tool
How smarmingly sultry you sing
O let us be mired! Two logs we have carried
But what shell will do for a ring?
They sallied one way for a beer and a lay
To the sand where the Bond Tree gropes
And there, in some wode, a Piggy-wig strode
With a thing at the bend in his nose
With a thing in the bend of his nose
Dear pig, are you willing to sell out for some sinning
My thing? said the piggy, sure will.
So they tucked it away and got hitched on Tuesday
By the Turk who lives just on pills
They dined out on mice and some liver and spice
With their mates, in a Dunstable room
And then hand in hand , on a ledge in the sand