SOMETIMES IT’S NOT WORTH THE EFFORT

The contortionist he had a love
and an extra oxter-arm.
So transfixed was he, poor cove,
by her flaunted charms
he’d waste the day for the mañana
to ogle pink bandanas.

Though haughty maid would pass him by
preferring steed of myth,
he’d dutifully serenade
though he knew she took the pith.

Eventually, to spite despair,
and prove he was no sucker
He sought out a Sussex witch
to try to woo the beauty
She spelled him Wyrm with scales unfair.
What a silly Knucker.