sarah stood upon the bridge
|
on the railing, near the edge
|
the only thing that brought her in
|
was a book that she had read
|
the novel’s name was long since lost
|
never mind the cost
|
the only thing she could recall
|
was that the author’s name was ford
|
|
it was written in nineteen ten
|
you could never have met a finer man
|
worked a farm for fifteen years
|
just to see if he could
|
he lost his memory in the war
|
he forgot what he was fighting for
|
the only thing he knew for sure
|
his name was ford madox ford
|
|
ford madox ford
|
the fattest poet who ever lived
|
his name was ford madox ford
|
|
joseph conrad and henry james
|
were two of the many famous names
|
that fat boy ford could claim
|
to be his bosom friends
|
then one day conrad said to him
|
i may be climbing out upon a limb
|
but it would help you out my friend
|
if you would lose a little weight
|
|
ford madox ford
|
the fattest poet who ever lived
|
his name was ford madox ford
|
|
-----------------
|
Ford Madox Ford
|
| Ass Ponys |
