I would call my Sister Julie almost every night, till her passing. Julie was working on a book of Edward Lear rewrites, and one night I helped her write this one in a hour long conversation. I feel her voice talking to me when I read this.
There was an Old Man of Marseielles
Whose daughters wore bottle-green veils;
They caught several Fish which they put in a dish,
And sent to thier Pa'Marseiles.
Edward Lear
Three fisher girls once wed a wily gent-
thier pa, at market sold them as a set.
The husband vowed he'd keep them innocent,
but knew--to sip six nipples-- he'd forget.
The wedding night, before thier ravishment,
the salmon-breasted girls lay on his bed
with waders on, a rubber regiment--
who tied him up with fishline, whacked his head.
The gent's estate was seaside, boat in back--
The widows with thier husband soon embarked.
His end? They said was a spendid cardiac;
though really he was cut bait for a shark.
The moral of this tale; three girls with knives
don't nessarily make the best of wives.
After two years after her passing, I am able to write this on my blog, for Julie. I submitt some of my own stuff too, but will do it only for Julie. Julie told me I was a good writer, and only when I touch the keypad, I feel her spirit.
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