This Year's Entry

Valerie's Mom's coming for a visit next week, and so, in keeping with tradition, it's time for a little Perquackey smack talk:

Yonder bridge doth arch and span

Over river, treacherous land,

Up from rocks on which are dashed

Remains of jumpers,

Life's check cashed.

Oh, their lives they cut so short,

Seeking damages, retorts,

Ere they learned that winner's bray

Rings naught but hollow; their decay

Haphazards forth in

Od'rous ruin,

Odious runes ghast dark and grey.

Decrypt ye there the message lying,

Kindred spirits' fate decrying,

Ne'er again sweet light of day

Oversundring their dismay.

Withhold your taunts, you French ka-nigget,

Step down from tower high and bri'g it.

Nine, nay, ten dice all that matter

On this table, curs'd idle patter.

Blessed be the man whose letters speak

Out for themselves, and if they're weak,

Unbridled fury does not seek.

Nine days until the tourney fair, ten

Dice plus three of color rare

Suffice. And may the sweet light glare.