| Re: SUNDAY 4 JUNE |
Subject: Re: SUNDAY 4 JUNE by GRIS on 2023/6/4 14:02:30 67, CLOUDY, CALM THIS MORNING, GOT JUST ENOUGH RAIN TO MAKE A MESS YESTERDAY EVENING. NOTHING ON THE AGENDA, DOG FED, I'M FED, ALL IS RIGHT AM GRISHEIM :-) BEEN READING A BOOK ABOUT THE RAVENS IN THE TOWER OF LONDON WRITTEN BY THE CURRENT RAVENMASTER. IT MADE ME THINK OF THIS CLEVER PARODY: THE END OF THE RAVEN BY POE’S CAT On a night quite unenchanting, when the rain was downward slanting, I awakened to the ranting of the man I catch mice for. Tipsy and a bit unshaven, in a tone I found quite craven, Poe was talking to a Raven perched above the chamber door. "Raven's very tasty," thought I, as I tiptoed o'er the floor, "There is nothing I like more." Soft upon the rug I treaded, calm and careful as I headed Towards his roost atop that dreaded bust of Pallas I deplore. While the bard and birdie chattered, I made sure that nothing clattered, Creaked, or snapped, or fell, or shattered, as I crossed the corridor; For his house is crammed with trinkets, curios and weird decor - Bric-a-brac and junk galore. Still the Raven never fluttered, standing stock-still as he uttered, In a voice that shrieked and sputtered, his two cents worth - "Nevermore." While this dirge the birdbrain kept up, oh, so silently I crept up, Then I crouched and quickly leapt up, pouncing on the feather bore. Soon he was a heap of plumage, and a little blood and gore - Only this and not much more. Then my pickled poet cried out, "Pussycat, it's time I dried out!" Never sat I in my hideout talking to a bird before; How I've wallowed in self-pity, while my gallant, valiant kitty. Put an end to that damned ditty - then I heard him start to snore. Back atop the door I clambered, eyed that statue I abhor, Jumped - and smashed it on the floor. MAY YOUR DAY BE SUNNY AND BRIGHT :-) |
