sock story

 
 
  a silly elf sat in a tree

to look and see what he could see,

when much to his bedazzlement

he spied a maiden heaven sent,

then tumbling down for closer look

his elfin ass fell in the brook,

and climbing out upon a rock,

discovered he had bent his, um, sock

so gazing round with teary eye

he once again did her espy,

laughing in gay merriment

at his, um, booty so badly bent,

said she to he “what is that thing?”

and “can you teach it how to sing?”,

but quick of wit ( and he no twit )

said “no, but I can make it spit”,

“a spitting sock!” said she with glee

“this I will surely have to see”,

and drawing near upon the brook

ventured to take a closer look,

surely closer than was wise

for a glint arose in elf-boy’s eyes,

and with said sock in solid grip

prepared to take her on a trip,

however, much to his surprise

from in the depths there did arise

a mighty turtle with vision weak

and snapped the sock a vicious tweak

poor elfin lad, his day well shot,

fainted away upon the spot,

then perspicacious faerie maid

perceived his plan her to degrade,

so dashing off with scornful grin

cried out in parting ( to his chagrin ):

“when next you’re plotting something grim,

try rolling up thy rim at tim’s!”

copyright r.b.franklin

10/08/06

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