Locks in Socks
Today’s installment of Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge – as always, keep those suggestions coming for next time in the comments section!
Brox on docks.
Locks in socks.
Brox on locks in socks on docks.
Socks on Brox and locks on docks.
Locks in socks on Brox on docks.
Trolls with bowls smoke.
Trolls with poles poke.
Trolls with poles poke bowls till holes broke.
Trolls extol their hole poke goals and
Trolls console their souls, smoke bowls and
Troll patrols troll souls with smoke and
Troll bowl smoke soaks folk who choke.
First I’ll make a troll bowl smoke hole.
Then I’ll make a troll pole poke hole.
You can make a troll bowl smoke hole.
You can make a troll pole poke hole.
And here’s a new goal, Mr. Brox…
Socks on trolls who troll on locks.
Locks on docks steal souls from trolls and
Trolls sans souls put pox on locks.
Now we come to DoTs and HoTs, sir.
DoTs and HoTs go tick and tock, sir.
DoT go tick and HoTs go tock, sir.
Try to say this, Mr. Brox, sir.
DoTs on hawks tick.
HoTs on Brox tock.
Six sick clicks DoT
Six hawk flocks up.
Hawk flocks DoT-up
Shock stalks fel pup.
Fel pup stalks hawk flocks to hell, yup.
Hawk flocks’ yell shocks fel pup locks and
Fel pups smell up dell on walks.
Now you try it, Mr. Brox, sir.
It is time we let you talk, sir.
“Please, sir. I don’t like this game, sir.
I am not this frigging lame, sir.
I get all the trolls and docks, sir,
Mixed up with the souls and socks, sir.
I can’t do it, Mr. Lock, sir.”
I’m so sorry, Mr. Brox, sir.
Here’s an easy game to play.
Here’s an easy thing to say…
Green orcs eat pork meat with clean forks.
Clean orc forks beat sweet pork spleen corks.
Green orcs put clean forks in spleen meat.
Mean orcs put corks in sweet Tweet greet.
“That’s not easy, Mr. Lock, sir.”
Sly wimp imp limps.
Who stocks sly wimp imps with limps?
Locks in socks stock imps with limps.
Wimp imp limps shock locks in socks while
Locks’ wimp imps stock box of socks.
Sly imps spy on locks in socks and
Spry imps, my, throw rocks at locks.
Limp rocks imp walks, blimp sky high! and
Wimp imp pimps for succubi.
“Hold on, hold on! That was stretching!
Those last few have got me retching!
That last one was rather lewd, sir.
I think you are very rude, sir!”
Sorry, sorry, Mr. Brox, sir.
Let’s continue our nice talk, sir.
Genn mends Chen’s cheer.
Chen blends Genn’s beer.
Chen-blend beer spills.
Genn-mend cheer fills.
Chen’s chums. Genn’s glum.
Chen’s friends bend some.
Chen’s friends bend Genn’s cheer austere and
Genn’s blend tends to clear Chen’s fears.
Chen’s friends! Ten friends!
Mend Genn! When, Genn?
Chen’s ten friends send beer to Rend, sir.
Genn’s glum trend, forfend, the end, sir.
“My poor mouth can’t say that. No, sir.
My poor mouth is much too slow, sir.”
Well, then…let’s relieve your lungs.
I will lift this Curse of Tongues.
Let’s have a little talk about squabblin’ goblins…
What do you know about squabblin’ goblins? Well…
When squabblin’ goblins bicker,
It’s called squabblin’ goblin babble.
And when they babble even quicker,
It’s called squabblin’ goblin gabble babble.
AND when squabblin’ goblins babble during Scrabble in a gabble,
They call it a squabblin’ goblin Scrabble gabble babble.
When goblins squabble goblins in a Scrabble gabble babble
And the goblin gabble babble is a quibble over Scrabble,
…they call this a squabblin’ goblin Scrabble quibble gabble babble.
When the goblins have these quibbles over Scrabble when they babble and the goblins scribble gabbles over Scrabble taking “tribbles”…
…they call this a quibble babble tribble gabble squabblin’ Scrabble goblin scribble.
“Lock in socks, that’s quite enough, sir.
I won’t say this silly stuff, sir.
All this babble hurts my head, sir.
I’ll go back to being dead, sir.”
(Side note, by the way – I really feel like this poem, and Orc Lemon Squares from the other day, are really screaming out for illustrations. So if any of you are artistically inclined and think you might be interested in helping to enhance your Warchief’s EPIC VERSE to its fullest potential, contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org. THAT IS AN ORDER.)