Good marrows grow the day so fair;
Good mourning, to mourners true:
Good mauling to lions in their lair,
Though marrow maulers there be few.
Good gracious is the noble queen
Good grief to those who mourn,
Good daisies that are often seen
A-growing on the lawn.
Good luck to the unfortunate
Good stead to stand them in,
Good thoughts on which to ruminate
If chewing is no sin.
'Good evening all, mind how you go'
Good times for everyone,
But after closing time you know
Is when the day is done.
Good moonshine for my fickle brain
Good health to every maid
Who'll stroll with me down yonder lane
Consenting to be laid.
Good Lord in his stately home
Good Knight in his fine castle,
Nightmares for the nasty gnome,
And vain dreams for the vassal.
Good riddance to this paltry rhyme
Good tidings to the sea
If daytime includes teatime
Then it's high tide to bed for me.
But, woe is me, a pox on this!
Good sorrow is good sadness.
For pity's sake, something's amiss
And she has caused this madness.
This verse is surely number nine
The square root of which is three,
Which means that what is yours is mine
And square roots make cubic trees.
Please let this be the final verse
With no more willy-nilly.
(Before I was far less perverse
And just a shade less silly).
'I have made a mistake,'
said the Man in the moon,
'For the sun is still shining,
I've arisen too soon
But then I am mad
So it's best I eclipse,
I shall go down to Margate
And buy fish and chips.'
M from the WRH alphabet doggerel
Images and doggerel © Mirino (PW) September, 2012