The storkmaster genral to old Sid Stork called,
"Now Sidney, you're near to retirement,
Your hearing is poor and your head's going bald,
But we have here an urgent requirement.

"This bundle, to Newport, in old Tennessee,
Must go, the (fe)male must get through,
But busy are George, Pete, and Dennis, you see,
So the mission, old boy's up to you."

Now Sid had heard "Newport" all right but the rest
Was muffled by ear wax and feathers,
So he flew to the North and the South and the West,
Through rain, snow and all sorts of weathers.

There's Newport, Rhode  Island, and there's Newport in Wales,
There's Newport on Vectis 's * isle,
There's a Newport on most of the coasts shipping sails,
And he flapped round them all for a while.

He perched on a statue to rest his old wings,
A pigeon flies up to him then
And cooing with merciless merriment sings
"That label there says Newport Tenn."

And so, on Aug 'leven, nineteen (something) five,
(That's blanked - revelation's her call,)
Old Sid, quite exhausted at long last arrived,
Brought she, who's a joy to her Paul.
...And thankful we are, one and all.
...Who's thankfully now ceased to bawl.

*Vectis is the Roman name for the Isle Of Wight, UK.

More harmless nonsense

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Tuesday, August 14, 2007