Buttercow

MY TRUE COLOURS

BUTTERCOW

A cow and a calf made of butter!

How creamy can anything be?

Caught in an urban shop-window!

What a strange sight I happened to see!

The calve's little legs looked so fragile

I almost expected collapse.

Were they wired up to the body,

I mused for a moment. Perhaps.

The lights seemed too strong for the models;

The butter must melt, that was sure.

But they did give a fleeting impression

Of something remarkably pure.

Advertising is odd, that's quite certain;

This tableau had caught someone's eye

That someone was me, I admit it;

I certainly paused, passing by.

But the 'message' had really escaped me.....

'Butter is Pure'..... was that right?

I just shrugged my shoulders and moved on

To some other eye-catching sight.

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DILEMMA!

A Princess, neither rich nor good,
Wandered in the wild, wild wood.
Her dress was just a hand-me-down,
Nothing like a royal gown.
Her shoes were thin; she felt the stones.
She was far removed from royal thrones!
Her parents were both church-mouse poor;
No crown jewels were in store.
Sadly, in the family-tree,
There was inherent poverty!
'Oh lackaday!' the Princess sighed,
'Why can't I be a rich man's bride!'
Suddenly, there appeared a frog!
(Of course, he was hiding behind a log.
If I searched for another rhyme
That would take up too much time!)
The princess smiled bright as can be,
Saying 'This must be the Prince for me!
Come, dear Frog, let us embrace!
How nice to have you on my case!'
She'd heard, you see, that froggy kisses
End up revealing what true bliss is.
Handsome Princes, under spells,
Pop out in time for wedding bells!
The poor Princess was very eager,
Though Froggy's sex-appeal was meager.
She cried 'My lips are longing for you!
Already, darling, I adore you!'
The Princess thought she'd got it made!
Gold-digging was her stock-in-trade.
She lunged at froggy, lips all pursed,
Crying 'Kiss me, Froggy! Do you worst!
Sorry! I mean your best, of course!'
(A sentiment she had to force!)
'Hold hard!' cried Froggy, 'Let's get things straight.
I admit that I can hardly wait,
For though you're not exactly rich,
There's nothing like you in my ditch!
But please consider, before we kiss
That this could be a hit or miss!
I might turn human, I really might,
And bring to you your heart's delight.
I might be a Prince, awash with jewels,
Made for love and fighting duels.
I might stand before you, strong and tall!
But things might not go that way at all.
The very force of my D.N.A.
Might make things go the other way!
How do you fancy, sweet young thing,
The joys that Froggy love could bring?
You say you love me; you will not mind
Erotica of a froggy kind?
If you turn amphibean, you wont care?
We'll be such a green and slimy pair!
So let us kiss! You may become
Entirely happy as a tadpole's Mum!'
So there you have it! She had to choose!
Should she take the risk with so much to loose?
Would a rich Prince lift her off the shelf?
Or would she become a Frog herself?
I think I'll call the Princess 'Emma'.
Now I've got a rhyme for
WHAT A DILEMMA!

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