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A ryghte nextian tayle
Posted by: poetscientistdrinker (---.cache.pol.co.uk)
Date: November 15, 2002 10:29PM
<HTML><h2>The Wyf of Swinedonne</h2>
A ryghte goodwif was ther of Swinedone born,
Thorsday Nexte; faste of gunne and fyne of form.
Of Spec-Opping she hadde sutche an fyne arte,
She caughte out Hades and Schitt, by being ryghte smarte.
Hades wass destroyed by silver scissors,
And fell in the flames at the Rochestors,
And Thorsday lefte Schitt faire stucke in the Poe,
Where he fyne filled upp the verse with his woe.
She was a worthy woman alle hir lyfe,
With a dodo called Pickwick bye hir syde.
In hir career she woulde goe ryghte farre,
Butte she had a blody hideouse paint job on hir car.
She had fought withe the light armoured brigade,
And returned to give the wounded her aide.
Hir brothere never came backe withe his lyfe,
Ande her love for Landonne niether survived.
Whenne Thursday uncoverred an aweful planne,
Jane Erye kidnapped by a terrible manne,
She enterred the booke, andde rescued the plot,
And improved the endyng, wythouten a doute.
In al the parisshe of Swine-donne was ther none,
More fancied by the man they haughte Landon.
Who hadde onley one leg, but a whole brayne,
And desyre to see hir Mrs Parke-Laine.
Thowe Landonne preye hir to marry to him,
She woulde not forgeten nor forgive him.
In his payne, he nearly married a whor called Daisy,
A ryghte fat cowe and a wikked woman of bigamie.
Butte the scamme was uncovered, reveled in tyme,
To rescue Landonne to wedde the Thorsday divyne.
And happy they wer lyving in ther flatte,
Untyl Goliath decyded to change that.
As suche perfeccion coulde never laste longe,
And Landonne was taken as a ransomme.
Thursday was grieved - depryved of hir husbond,
Untyl she rescued Schitt out of <i>the Ravon</i>.
Meanwhile hir travailes enterred a new form,
With a brande new jobbe at Jurisfictionne.
She wasse fyne-teamed with Miss Havishom,
A devyl of a driver, seconde to nonn.
Wythe booke-jumping, ande Cardenio scammes,
Goliathe were givenn a goode run around.
Ande her father rescued the worlde we knowe,
From be-yng submerged in waves of pinke gooe.
Alas Schitt was returned, butte not Landonne,
Whych is fortune for us - as the story goes onne.
Soe keepe uppe wyth Thorsday in the <i>'Welle of Lost Plots'</i>,
And hope that Aornis hasn't had Jasper forgot.</HTML>
A ryghte goodwif was ther of Swinedone born,
Thorsday Nexte; faste of gunne and fyne of form.
Of Spec-Opping she hadde sutche an fyne arte,
She caughte out Hades and Schitt, by being ryghte smarte.
Hades wass destroyed by silver scissors,
And fell in the flames at the Rochestors,
And Thorsday lefte Schitt faire stucke in the Poe,
Where he fyne filled upp the verse with his woe.
She was a worthy woman alle hir lyfe,
With a dodo called Pickwick bye hir syde.
In hir career she woulde goe ryghte farre,
Butte she had a blody hideouse paint job on hir car.
She had fought withe the light armoured brigade,
And returned to give the wounded her aide.
Hir brothere never came backe withe his lyfe,
Ande her love for Landonne niether survived.
Whenne Thursday uncoverred an aweful planne,
Jane Erye kidnapped by a terrible manne,
She enterred the booke, andde rescued the plot,
And improved the endyng, wythouten a doute.
In al the parisshe of Swine-donne was ther none,
More fancied by the man they haughte Landon.
Who hadde onley one leg, but a whole brayne,
And desyre to see hir Mrs Parke-Laine.
Thowe Landonne preye hir to marry to him,
She woulde not forgeten nor forgive him.
In his payne, he nearly married a whor called Daisy,
A ryghte fat cowe and a wikked woman of bigamie.
Butte the scamme was uncovered, reveled in tyme,
To rescue Landonne to wedde the Thorsday divyne.
And happy they wer lyving in ther flatte,
Untyl Goliath decyded to change that.
As suche perfeccion coulde never laste longe,
And Landonne was taken as a ransomme.
Thursday was grieved - depryved of hir husbond,
Untyl she rescued Schitt out of <i>the Ravon</i>.
Meanwhile hir travailes enterred a new form,
With a brande new jobbe at Jurisfictionne.
She wasse fyne-teamed with Miss Havishom,
A devyl of a driver, seconde to nonn.
Wythe booke-jumping, ande Cardenio scammes,
Goliathe were givenn a goode run around.
Ande her father rescued the worlde we knowe,
From be-yng submerged in waves of pinke gooe.
Alas Schitt was returned, butte not Landonne,
Whych is fortune for us - as the story goes onne.
Soe keepe uppe wyth Thorsday in the <i>'Welle of Lost Plots'</i>,
And hope that Aornis hasn't had Jasper forgot.</HTML>
Re: A ryghte nextian tayle
Posted by: all-american-cutie (---.dalect01.va.comcast.net)
Date: November 16, 2002 12:14AM
<HTML>Benne!!!
Wutt a wunderfull tayle! Verree imajinutive indeede!
~Twhylah~</HTML>
Wutt a wunderfull tayle! Verree imajinutive indeede!
~Twhylah~</HTML>
Re: A ryghte nextian tayle
Posted by: poetscientistdrinker (---.cache.pol.co.uk)
Date: November 16, 2002 12:39AM
<HTML>I apologise for the wobbly spelling but I bought the manuscript off some bloke called Geoffrey that I met in a pub in London. Reckoned he wouldn't need it as he was buggering off to Canterbury or something.
Remember - never purchase any documents without the official vehicle.</HTML>
Remember - never purchase any documents without the official vehicle.</HTML>
Re: A ryghte nextian tayle
Posted by: Jon (---.proxy.aol.com)
Date: November 16, 2002 12:40PM
<HTML>An alle righte folk will certaynly see
Chaucer is cleverer than Fred Mercuree;
Thys work so fyn, ande its authour no mug, itte
Has now ben transfygurred to a Reader's Nuggette</HTML>
Chaucer is cleverer than Fred Mercuree;
Thys work so fyn, ande its authour no mug, itte
Has now ben transfygurred to a Reader's Nuggette</HTML>
Re: A ryghte nextian tayle
Posted by: ScarletBea (---.telepac.pt)
Date: November 16, 2002 04:17PM
<HTML>OH GOD BEN!!!!!
:DDDDDD</HTML>
:DDDDDD</HTML>
Re: A ryghte nextian tayle
Posted by: Ooktavia (---.nv.iinet.net.au)
Date: November 18, 2002 11:52AM
<HTML>Sir, I congratulate you!
I must and will buy you a pint as an accolade, upon the next St Swithins' day! A pint of whatevwer you chuse.</HTML>
I must and will buy you a pint as an accolade, upon the next St Swithins' day! A pint of whatevwer you chuse.</HTML>
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