Whence Went My Foot
At the Festival of Whittlegrip
A time of good cheer and fine drink
I had just taken a little sip
Of something like cider, I think
When my eyes were pulled, tugged away
Forcing my gaze to another spot
Where I stared in deepest amaze
At a maiden from Heaven wrought
My breath stalled, my heart quickened
As mine eyes drank in her perfection
Knobby knees and palms slickened
I stumbled dumb in her direction
She looked on me with kindest laugh
Her lips a curtain for starlight teeth
And on her crown in divine path
Were flowers and boughs twined in a wreathe
Here I knew was my destiny
To charm, disarm, and woo her
If only my foot heard the rest of me
Instead of trodding in manure
