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.