The Resourceful Bard

The man who has to write a string

     Of verse and jokes each day,

Is sometimes sadly up a tree

     To know just what to say.

The muse won’t always linger near

     To lend a helping thrill;

And then he has to juggle some

     His gaping space to fill.

He knows a merry trick or two

     And brings them into play;

Instead of writing straight across,

              He runs

              It down

              This way.

And if space still is waiting him,

     Has caught him unawares,

He gains an inch, or more perhaps,

          By

               writing

                           it

                                down

                                          stairs.

              Another way

                  Is mighty fine:

              Just shorten up

                  To half a line.

              It eats up space,

                  And brings him bliss;

              To write it out

                  The same as this.

But best of all is Lampton’s way

     Of paralyzing space;

To run it down in real “yawp” style,

     If one has got the face.

He

Takes his pen

In hand

And then

Just

Sings

And strings

His song

Along

Down the line

And peo-

Ple say

It’s

Fine!

And thus you see, the chap who writes

     A column every day

Has many ways

To make his plays

     And cheer him on his way.

Were it not so the day would come

     Quite often too, I think

When his performance done in verse

              Would be

              Upon

              The blink.

                  

June 2, ‘09