 | Knighthood, Chivalry & Tournaments
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Joan of Arc
The year was 1428,
And good king Henry did debate,
While he was deep in France on tour,
Revenge for Bill the Conqueror.
He knocked on gates of Old Orleans Requesting lodgings for his men,
But Frenchmen gave him signs obsene,
And pellted him with specimen.
So Henry girded up to fight.
With army waiting through the night,
But as the morning did draw near,
A voice rang out, so sweet so clear.
"What makes you Inglish so afraid,
To sally forth to meet this maid"
"I can and will destroy the champ
Of all the men in Inglish camp"
Well Henry, he was realy vexed
To hear such bragging from fair sex.
So he ordered big Tuff Fred
To go and knock the French bitch dead.
But Fred was outclassed in his fight
And died a death of grusome fright.
Then the voice rang out once more,
To make King Henry twice as sore.
"What makes you Inglish so afraid,
To gird your loins and meet this maid."
"I have beaten one big fellow
But the rest of you are yellow"
"You have the face of old baget,
You silly slimy K-nig-eT."
When Henry heard this latest boast,
He chose 10 killers from his host
And ordered them to go and cream,
The saucy bint from Old Orleans.
The squad was made of burly blokes,
Who had no fear of death they joked.
So they set out with wildish will,
To mayhem make and maid to kill.
But they were in for big supprise
As they all died with woefull cries.
The sounds of rending flesh from bone,
The rasping sounds of dying moan.
"My name is Joan" the voice an anounced.
"And your poor 10 men I have trounced"
"Is that the best that you can do,
Why did you send a squad so few"
"A regament is more my need,
So send one down for me to bleed"
"Now thats enough of that " said King.
I`ll send Steel Guard to do this thing."
And so a thousand men strode out,
To put the Orleans maid to route.
The noise that followed was not nice,
Like heads exploding in a vice.
Such sucking sounds to chill the splean.
Like horrors from Satanic dream.
And then the voice called once again,
But this time with a plane distain.
"It seems your best just canot match,
This Petit maid they sought to catch."
"So hurry please for time is short,
Just send whole army for my sport"
Now this made Henry hopping mad,
And he did swear aloud "E-GAD !!!!!
I`ll fix that French bint here and now,
I`ll send whole army, show her how."
The fight that followed was not brief,
But English army came to grief.
Our Henry, standing on a hill,
Saw dawn arrive orr fields of kill.
The carnage that he saw was bale.
The only sound a plantive whail,
Of one poor man with bleeding bod,
Who gasped his last upon the sod.
"What happened here" The King did ask,
"How could one French bitch do this task"
The King held up the troopers head,
To hear the last words that he said,
"Ohh Sire, she has tricked us well
And into ambush we have fell"
"She was young girl.but she wernt dumb."
"She lied to us. She brung her mum"
Dr. Foo.
Now when your feeling poorly and your berry berry ill.
If you cant afford witch doctor and will not take a pill,
Then visit Dr. Foo-man-Choo, acupunture is his trick,
For with Oriental neadles sharp your body he will prick.
A stab in the right foot, your nose starts to itch.
A stab in the left and your ears start to twitch.
Dr. Foo knows what to do, for stabbing he`d a yen.
Now that daggers are illegal, he must use a pin.
The point of acupunture is a secret from the past.
The wise chinese discovered that it helped to heal you fast.
Of headaches and of backache, Collic, Gutrot and bad breath
In fact the only thing it might not cure was a case of death.
A stab in the right ear, your foots no longer there
A stab in the left and your body disapears.
Dr. Foo knows what to do, at stabing you he`s good.
He can stab you ninty times and never spill your blood.
So when you have a bad stich, Dr. Foo`s the man for you
For neadling such sharp pains is just what he loves to do.
He tells you not to worry and says this with a grin
As he takes a two foot neadle and proceeds to push it in.
A stab in the right hand to help improve your eyes.
A stab in the left to cure those aching thighs.
Dr. Foo knows what to do, at stabing he is able.
All those terror tales of him are only silly fable.
Some people think that he`s Chinese
But I know that he is jap.
And for all his awfull habits,
He`s quite a gentle chap.
He loves his Mom and little dogs,
And can cure most all your pain.
He does it for humanity
And not for fiscal gain.
So lets try to remember him.
With happiness and joy.
His parents raised him sharply up.
When he was but a boy.
LETTERS.
It began very simply when I was a child,
That by letters of Alphabet I was beguiled.
From my first A.B.C. through to Janet & John.
I devoured all writing no matter where from.
I chewed up those letters dispite that my betters
Constantly warned me I would go blind.
Id ignore their warning and read till the morning,
Digesting all literature that I could find.
I was soon sent to school for to sharpen this vice.
I learned to read Fairy tales where endings were nice.
There was Noddy and PoohBear,The Secret Seven,
And Bibles and preyer books to get us to heaven.
I swollowed whole volumes when alone in my own room.
And was told by my peer group that I would go mad.
I scoffed at their logic and then read a comic,
Ignoring all whispers that said Id turn bad.
I never did relise that I was in fact hooked
By this heinious habbit that was hidden in books.
I was young I was happy and had not a clue
To the volumes of trouble a good book can do.
I felt lost and alone if deprived of my tome,
But Id never admitt I was going insane.
They said I was lazy, would drive myself crazy,
And that all of this reading would ruin my brain.
It soon came to pass that I was wasting my cash,
Buying paperback novels no better than trash.
I spent hundreds of dollers on this addiction.
And was fast getting hooked on nasty non-fiction.
I ate books for my food I had ink for my blood.
And would not take notice of those around me.
Who said it was too late that Id signed my own fate.
For now and forever a book junky Id be.
So I took a decision to worry no more,
I spent my lifes savings on buying a bookstore
I gave in to the primate that sits on my head
And I will wear this bad habit untill I am dead.
Its realy not so bad though it makes my friends sad,
to know that Im so far beyond help or aid.
It makes them all tearfull and I feel quite fearfull,
To know that Id much rather read than get laid.
Well I tried cold turkey and I tried the T.V.
I tride booze and hard drugs to try and break free.
But nothing else satisfies the cravings I feel,
To find out for my self all the knowledge thats real.
If its not in a book then its not worth the look.
Though Iv tride all the ways that I know to get straight,
I should just give up hope and admit Im a dope.
And face up to the fact that for me its to late.
And now in my dotage Im surronded by books.
Their perpetually present where ever I look.
I buy them and deal them for they take up my life.
If Id listened to nanny Id not have this strife.
I admit that Im hooked and I must have a book.
Take pitty on me who must wear this dread fetter.
I was given no choice so I never raised voice.
And now Im addicted to alphabet letter...................
