A Lighter Shadow

On Swanning Night came wandering home
A loose-chinned man, parched and alone
Rest - he take it; thirst - he slake it
And gnawed the cheese down to the bone

I slawped him one then asked a query,
Listened he so blakkered and bleary
Asked my name with much disdain
Then refused a reply to my theory.

Wondered I what jiggered him so,
When what should come along but, "Ho!
Got anything bigger than an Old, Bold Whigger?"
So I offered-up my toe

At this affront took he fright-flight
Swishing off in the Ebon night
Whence came a shriek, and the sound of Teak
Boxed round a slickering light

When dawn flipped-up as so and so
I foun' him where, waving my toe,
He'd danced a jig in the light of The Pig
And now rested accordingly so

Therefore my friend don't tread in the wake
Of a sleepy-eyed toad or a dawdling snake
Else you'll find you've died and consequally fried
In a moribund moss-scape of cake