well before I have a champagne and wow mix, I will add one last MoFC ode for this régime - yes a little rewriting has just gone on.
I wonder if Ed could compose a hilights....?
Anyway, I hope that this hits the notes:
Below the Castle the moat runs into a swampy lake.
The Bard sat there in the warm September sunshine
writing his very last contribution to the 50’s Club.
As he read it through, a sudden gust
ripped it from his fingers
and tossed it across the Moat meadow.
A large Croc stilled it with a webbed foot
growled triumphantly and beat his huge tail
refusing to let it go.
The Bard said it wasn’t very good
but supposing it was his best ever poem
being trampled by a Croc.
They can rip you with their razor teeth
and break your leg with crashing tail
so you don’t argue with a Croc.
They say the Lady A there wasn’t friendly...
Imagine it became famous - the one poem he ever wrote.
Absolutely the most famous poem in the world
and Lady A, almost inarticulate in interviews
just said “Croc give it me”
and in the end with the stress of it all
The Bard’s locked away, he never gets out
and all he can ever say is
“Croc give it to me, the ’moat Croc’, give me the poem”.