The Poet Who Couldn't Do Metaphors

And he saw a lion and cried with passion
That its mane sent him into orgasms of ecstasy
Just to see those fiery spears
Shooting firebrands into the stratosphere

And I said, yes, but what about your heart
And he said, NO! I want to do Firebrands and Orgasms
Nothing less will do

And he saw a peacock, and shouted
What majestic beauty, what an insult to the normosphere
What a slap in the face of conventional reality
And I said, oh! that wasn't bad! you're getting there
But the ultimate test will be when I simply can't comment

And he said 'What are you talking about?'
And I really wasn't sure any more

And he saw a little sparrow
Flittering and fluttering here and there
And he leant forward and whispered gently
With a half-smile tickling the corners of his mouth
Sweet cheeky little bundle
Of feathers and fun
Nipping in where those clumsy pigeons
And gawky geese can never get, never still
Where a crumb is a mouthful
And a swan is a god
I think I like you best of all

And I said




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