Tonight, I write,
and cite quite trite,
th’ story of a bright night invite.
Wherein the knight
despite his might,
beneath the moon, has lost his fight.
…o’er the long proclaimed
right full height
of his kite in flight.
For his tight, white blight
has seen the light.
…and what a fright.
Oh, how deep the bite
as she laughed in delight
at the pitious sight.
At which, he said of his newfound plight,
feeling contrite from her sizeable slight,
“Oh Shite!”
~ elr
“No more rhymes now, I mean it!”
“Anybody want a peanut?”
“Aughhh!”
— The Princess Bride
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