Digging for rhymes.

Alexander Pope
Went to buy some rope
The shop was closed,
“Would that I’d knowsed
I’ll have to use string, I suppose
Or else, give up all hope.”

Pope Xander A
Went to buy some hay
The empty barn
Was huge and warm
He snored inside it until dawn
And then he went away.

Pope Xander Celled
(Same guy, misspelled)
Devised a plan
To purchase from
A market stall at 8pm
When the market wasn’t held.

A Pope –  that boy there
Tried to make a chair
He hired a saw
Pulled up the floor
Boards and sawed them up some more
Then threw them all away.

Pope Ander Alex
Wondered: What do next?
Called his friend true,
Said “Listen Boo
It goes wrong what I try to do –
Is it some sort of hex?”

Boo analysed the thing
Of not buying rope or string
Or marketing, or making chairs
Or buying hay or other wares
He thought while sitting on the stairs,
Until his brain went ping.

He said, “Xander, carry on
Don’t despair, stay strong
I’ve thought about it quite a lot –
Just feel my forehead, getting hot
At last a great idea I’ve got –
I know what’s going wrong.

A great idea at last,
It came to me not fast
My brain it waved,
My friend I’ll save
The problem is how you behave,
You’re living in the past.

Look at that first verse!
It could not be much worse!
You’re wanting rope or bits of string
Or other antiquated things
What’s with the hay and marketing?
I see that you demurs.

My friend, you need the Net,
It is the place to get
Your ready-mades
Your help and aid
Your books, your clothes, a winsome maid
Even a fluffy pet.

Horrible drugs
Matching mugs
And plates and bowls
And trainer soles
And other stuff loved by the proles
And even knotted rugs.

And exercising plans
And small electric fans
Curlers, crowbars, sticky tape
Bulk packs of tissues, paper crepe
Adopt a lion or an ape
Or buy tickets for Le Mans.

Ask the doc what’s wrong,
Or listen to a song
Or see a photo of a tick
Or teach yourself to guitar pick
Or even read JaneLaverick
(More than ten years long.)

Alexander Pope
Said, “Though I’m glad you spoke
Curtail the list
I get the gist,
I’m feeling really tired of this
I only wanted rope.”

“Well you are not alone,”
Said Boo, scrolling on his phone,
“There’s nylon, cotton, hemp and twine
Ten small coils or half a mile
Pink, blue, striped or Eau de Nile
Or green or red or brown.”

“Please shut up Boo!” screamed A
“I wish you’d go away
The rope was for this dinosaur
I’ve dug up underneath the floor.
I need to pull it up some more
And excavate it all before
The term of rent is nearly o’er
Which is happening today.

And I must not forget
To mop up all the wet.
I need the hay
To round it lay
To make the water go away
And save my damp T Rex.

I really need a chair
It’s hard to kneel down there
My knees are shot
My hips have not
Much strength, I’m going all to pot
It isn’t very fair.”

His friend said, with a grin
“Call Alice Roberts in
She has cute trews
She cannot lose
She’ll dig up anything you choose
As neat as a new pin.

She knows the BBC
(She has them round for tea)
She’s got a tent
That’s free of rent
And full of air and very vent
Ilated, by the sea.

She has bright shiny eyes
A biker jacket, nice –
A Roman spoon
A gold doubloon
A bit of plaster, from a room
And a theme tune ‘Coins for the eyes.’

If she would only lend
Her weight to this ‘twould bend
The rent around
The tricky ground
The Rexasaurus would be found
Quite easily, my friend.

They will sort it all
Out, no probs at all
They’ll help you with your decoupage
Excavating’s all the rage,
We’ll get in English Heritage
I’m giving her a call.”

To cut the story short
He called, she came, she sort
Ed it for free
Filmed hours of dig for all to see
And wrote a long report.

So Alexander Pope
Became a famous bloke
The next to fame
With that same name
Though not, of course, at all the same
As the poet, was he? Nope.

Today he owns the block
Of houses, lock and stock,
In central Leeds
It meets his needs
He purchased each one of the deeds
Financed by those who flock

To see a dinosaur
Underneath a floor,
They file in behind a rail,
In the lounge they see its tail,
To see its face a trail they trace
Under the bathroom door.

Alexander was not slow
To make the money flow.
The gift shop he did not forget,
Buy stuff there, or on the Net.
T Rex T-shirts, shoes and hats
T Rex cat food (it’s for cats)
And loads of things you know.

T Rex ’jamas, T Rex socks
Dinosaur gloves, T Rex locks,
Dinosaur carpets, tiles for floors
T Rex vices with gripping jaws,
Brontosaur jugs, long necked, of course
And huge Jurassic clocks.

I could tell you so much more
Of things discovered underfloor,
A trilobite squashed very flat
An ammonite, that curled, like that
A thing looked like a lizard rat
(Not really very sure).

Well done for reading all this verse,
It could not have been much worse,
Longer than some Shakespeare plays
But stopping now without delays
Because we’ve got to where it says
I posted it in Werse.


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