Willy Wart and the Wooing of Wendy Wren

Willy Wart and the Wooing of Wendy Wren

Wiglaf Wart wed Winerva Wan
whereat begat Weevil Wart
wherefore Weevil Wart wed Wertha Whalejaw
whereat begat Willy Wart
whereat sat at Wackall School.
“Sleep is no sanctuary.
It is but a brief oblivion.
World is there when you wake,”
wrote Willy Wart in writing class,
the only exam he felt bound to pass.
Teacher, Walter Woad, him told,
as if to scold to mould:
“Don’t grow to be a poet fool,
best learn to turn a tool.”
Willy Wart inwardly smiled,
thought he was born wizard wise before a child.
He asked a monkey up a tree
if he would like a cup of tea.
Could not repeat the reply that came to be,
could not imitate such sounds.
A peacock walked on the village green,
the fairest sight most folk had seen,
escaped from a zoo it must have been,
the bird’s ego knew no bounds.
Willy Wart welded wires, wings, tubes and strings
to see what from thus new music springs,
formed Willy Wart’s Wondrous Wire Band,
soon were known throughout the land,
welcomed well from Antarctica to Cuba.
Met Wendy Wren at Winchester waltz.
She waitress worked at Wily’s Coffee Bar,
told him she liked the way he played tuba.
“Thanks,” said Willy Wart, not upset,
too polite to say he played clarinet.
Willy Wart went Westminster Abbey
to arrange his wedding gig.
Weedle Warren the warden told him
the edifice only royalty could hire,
his voice low below the Latin chant of a choir.
“Well,” thought Willy Wart. “What a prig.”
Willy Wart wooed Wendy Wren,
weekly courted her more than a year completely,
and though she could barely play a tune,
she joined his band to blow bassoon.
Willy Wart went Welsh chapel,
within wed Wendy Wren,
though he nor she was Welsh,
seemed wisdom in west Welsh wedding.
Washing machine, pots, pans, toaster, iron,
ironing board bought for wee Welsh Wales cottage,
not to mention bedding.
Willy Wart thought what he sought could be caught
for only nothing came to nought.

 

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