Four Rotund Cornucopias
copyright ©2004 by Blind Lemming Chiffon
no tune

Four rotund cornucopias
Collided with my lunch.
One pounced on my potato chips,
Cacophonous with crunch.

Another foe crouched furious,
Conversing with my toes,
Quite copious, yet curious,
Covertly counting crows.

A third waxed floors poetic,
Astride an albatross,
With memory most eidetic,
And fingers full of floss,

A fourth confronted cautiously,
Quite coldly, like a cow,
And bellowed at me boldly,
Consuming conquered chow.