Songs of the Soused

This bee, this venerable possum, and this snail
Were my Christmas guests. We wore bright paper hats
And the smiles one tries when conversations fail.
The possum sang a song all sharps and flats
The bee did wing flaps humming this and thats.
The snail shelled out for sherry and was able
To drink the possum underneath the table.
The bee and I, bemused that we had learned
That possums playing dead was not a fable,
Sang lachrymosely while the pudding burned.

2 thoughts on “Songs of the Soused

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s