After he woofed, he hoofed as he roofed.
His hair was poofed, proof that he goofed.
“The roof tiles were sheaf’d,” he beefed.
Briefed of this grief, he fiefed
An eft. The left eft, heft to be cleft in his deft
Grip. “I lift and I sift,” he sniffed. “I’m miffed,
Set adrift, this rift is stiffed.”
(He whiffed and he tiffed.) “I’m bluffed!
I’m puffed to be stuffed, buffed and rebuffed!”
Shawn coughed soft–aloft the loft.
He doffed; then he offed!
Dru Deward, a druidic drawer,
Was drawn in to sketch out a foyer.
The foyer he drew them
Was so drab they drug in
The dread druid foyer drawer lawyer.
Sir Wright, who was talking to Bea,
Misquoted me to be mighty:
“He e’er writes right-handed
“Too much to write rites right —
“He might be too right to write, might he?”
Chad Chew’s shed.
Chad Chew’s shad’s shed!
Shad? No shoes.
Chad Chew’s unshod shad’s shed.
Chad Chew’s unshod shad’s sod-shed.
Chad should shoe.
Chad should shoe his shad (f’sho’!).
Chad Chew should shoe his sod-shed’s unshod shad.
Should have. Should’ve. Shoulda.
Chad shoulda shod his shad.
Had Chad Chew shod his shad,
He woulda (and coulda) had—
Chad Chew’s shodden shad sod-shed.
Chad Chew chooses newly shod shad from his sod-shed to issue fishy vichyssoise.