Am-fib-ious

He was a neat philosopher,

     While wading down a stream one day

He slipped and fell and plunged therein,

     And like a submerged porpoise lay.

And when he calmly reached the bank

     He put his friend’s course jest to rout;

“I’ve often wished to know,” quoth he,

     “Just how it feels to be a trout.”

April 30, ‘07