O beautiful bus shelter all shiny and new!
When I first set eyes on you, my joy blossomed and grew,
For I knew beyond the tiniest doubt
That my luck had changed and there was gladness throughout.
Although the ground was covered in a layer of snow
And the cold, cruel blasts of winter had started to blow,
I could withstand the elements in my harbour of glass.
The wind chill was less brutal and biting and brash.
But if you were to ask me what most did please,
It would be that my cheeks weren't burned and my tits didn't freeze.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-20 08:29 am (UTC)Quote: McGonagall's works remain in print long after many of his more skillful contemporaries have been consigned to history
... so now see what you can aspire to!
no subject
Date: 2008-11-20 05:55 pm (UTC)Well, I'm glad you enjoyed the poem and I can say this much: it does rhyme. However, I think if you scan the lines, you'll find the rhythm isn't exquisite, or even consistent, in terms of metre, etc. I'm pretty sure it's not a proper ode, though it's been so long since I studied odes that I probably wouldn't know one if I came across it in a bus shelter. *g*