The King's Snit

 

                                 The king was in his countinghouse,

                                                      pouting.

                                “Very! Very! Sick!,” said he, “of all this

                                                     Shouting!”

 

                              “Perhaps they think” pondered his

                                                     minister,

                           “you are, Your Youness, just a little bit

                                                  sinister?”

 

                          “I used to like them, but they're not very

                                                     Nice!

                           To the royal me, they are nothing but

                                                    Lice!”

 

                              And he leaned out the window to yell,
                                                   “Lice!”

                              Adding for emphasis , “ Very Not

                                                     Nice!

 

                             But who's at the gates, what's all the

                                                   Noise?”

                        “With pitchforks and hoes, Sire, a mob of the

                                                   Boys.”

 

                                  “Hoes? My word, that sounds very

                                                 Yummy!”

                               “Not that kind, My lord; these aren't so

                                                chummy.”

 

                                   “Mine is the finger. Mine is the

                                                    button.

                              I'll turn all you sheep into plates of roast

                                                   Mutton!”

 

                              “Time for a change,” Murmured the

                                                  Minister,

                            “Sire, your new attendants, Bubba and

                                                   Finster.

 

                             And the latest wardrobe, a very nice

                                                   Jacket,

                                 See how the sleeves tie in

                                                   Back. It

 

                              fits you so nicely. With your new room of

                                                  rubber,

                               all by yourself you can tweet and can

                                                 Blubber.”

 

                   Away the king goes, his minister quoth, “Friends forward-

                                                 Hence,

                      we'll forego the billions, and make do with

                                                 Pence.”