It has been spoke
Few miles from Bangkok
Where the town convoked
A story here epoch
As bizarre as baroque
Passed down to the country folks
Told like a fool's joke
Of an okey doke
Playing hokes
Whose spirit's was broke?
Until a muse was invoked
To have his prank skills revoked
And for him to have smiles evoked
From all the people he provoked

To what is town talk
Crossing the zebra walk
As if playing from the balk
His face chalked
Filled with thorny stark

About to throw off the yoke
He got poked
Thoughts in his head awoke
And had him shook
Almost chocked

Going on a hoof mark
Strolling in the park
On a branch a skylark
Had his interest sparked
He stopped and harked
All stuffed and starked
Expression snarked
Wandering if to embark
On this tale out of the ark
That sail the river sarks
And face the sharks
Instead of hiding in the dark
Holding hands with a macaque

It was no shock
He didn't choose this crock
Of the pen over the mattock
Writing banbury story of a bull and a cock

So next to a flapping windsock
Under a wasp nest hanging low from a kapok
Eating a bannock
Ignoring the tick tock
No race against the clock
By the devil's luck
Something he red in Slovak
Affected his writers block
This student of the school of harsh knock
Going hickory hickory dock
Mind running amok
Narrated this summer stock

Once upon a land fit only for burloks
Feeling like a million buck
Coming from a star buck
A frog with dreadlocks
Went through a field of holly hocks
Listening to music of Bach

In a heat hell had to stoke
Exposing his stomach
Having no sun block
Skin yellowed fried egg yolk
He went on the lake to soak
With plumy croak
Doing backstrokes

There without a squeak and a squawk
In the distance gawked
Was a mighty hawk
Using the leaves of the oak
As a wooden cloak
Sure to become a harshtoke
Drinking a diet coke
Out of the mist of smoke
With the hair upright stripe of a mohawk
Something done by elflocks
Feathering a smock
Kind like a cock
In the tux of a peacock
The grooming of a punk rock
Pretending to be a medical doc

Heavy as a truck
Ready to bring havoc
Going for a headlock
He charged like a bullock

In this mystery pluck
Getting close to the young jock
Loud with a passionate cluck
Before the blow got struck
Rot of ruck
Quick to undock
The frog dove like a rock
Leaving him a laughing stock
To be mocked
By geese in flock
Who called him a poppycock
All kind of schlock

This schmuck
Who rag the puck
Like a warlock
Now chin to the chest plucked
Tail tucked
Mouth full of a nasty guck
Smelling so bad to have you chucked
With not a bone to suck
Stood like a rubber duck
Stuck in a muck