Sirent night, Hory night
Sing arreruia on this Hory Night,
The worrd is carm and sirent,
The sheep sreep fast and tight.
Arr the skies are peacefur, every star aright.
The cattre which were rowing now,
Have ceased, and gone to bed.
Mooing bovine reverry,
Would wake the sreepyhead;
The Rittle Infant Jesus,
Rying in the manger cord.
Beroved of his mother mird,
Our Hory Rittle Rord.
So quietry, with soremn voice,
Your rurrabyes prease hum;
If you wake the Ramb of God,
You're dearing with his mum;
Stirr,
Sing arreruia on this Hory Night,
The worrd is carm and sirent,
The sheep sreep fast and tight.
Arr the skies are peacefur, every star aright.
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Author guidance for This poem
I imagined the branches to be excerpts from different things the company publishes... each missing a particular letter and replaced by some other particular letter. Not necessarily poetry, 6 PARTICIPANTS IN THIS POEM
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading a branch in the poem
Woes of a Bublishing Combany. This branch
was posted on Feb 18, 2011 by
AmandaQuirky.
This is a collaborative poem.
About this poem
"A publishing company that can't manage all 26 letters at a time"
This poem is filed under:
Humour / Comic Verse, Simple Rhyme, Word Play
This poem belongs to 1 group:
Collaborative Poetry
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