2020
The Oarful Poem
There once was a rope
Carried by a poetic dope
A rather generous giver
Who travelled o'er a river
A friend, who along did string
Alas had no bell to ring
His name was Ray
Who arose early each day
As campaknology was his trade
Although he ne'er made the grade
And with that, this poem's a phew
So for those who have read it, i say a simple thank you
At 14 May 2020
This poem links to the 'Them Long Words' blog offering of the previous day btw...
I simply initially took the 'words' ('Ray', 'rope', 'string', 'ring', 'bell', and 'campaknowlogist') from such a blog to see if i could construct a poem from them - in a similar way, perhaps, that the main body of 'The Kesaputta Poem' was constructed from the Kesaputta sutta...
Tis strange what ideas simply come to mind sometimes...