On Eating Spam for Christmas

When unimpressed with turkey and mince pies,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And curse fat Santa with ungrateful cries,
And look on tasteless gifts from folks I hate,
Wishing I had the riches I have not,
Futures like him, like him of funds possess'd,
Desiring this man's wife, and that man's yacht,
With what I most enjoy presented least:
Yet in these thoughts the season most despising,
Haply I dine on Spam,--and then my state
(Like to some butterfly of hope arising
From misty dusk) sings carols at God's gate;
For on sweet Spam I dine with such trimmings
That I relish Christmas joys oerbrimmings.


"Let me not to the contents of thy can"

Let me not to the contents of thy can
Add any condiments. Spam is not Spam
When altered by unbalanced minds,
Or flaked when the remover doth remove:
O no; it is the ever-fixed pork,
Uncooked, ungarnished, and by Time undinted;
It is like gold to every plundering fork,
Whose worth's unknown, although its price be printed.
Spams not uncool, though rosy-hued and cheap
And from it oily trickles constant come;
Spam alters not, doth neither wake nor sleep,
Its worth cries out though it be deaf and dumb.
If this be error, and such claims a sham,
Neer have I writ, and neer man ate of Spam.

On His Spamlessness

When I consider how my Spam is spent
Ere half my time in this lunch hours gone by,
And thirty minutes left I sit and cry
Longingly Spamless, though my soul be bent
To be served with more, €œWaitress€� I relent
With gloomy frown, when she returns apace,
"Do you accept Mastercard in this place?"
I fondly ask. But Waitress, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, "We hath not need
Of anything except hard cash. Who fails
To tender such, we serve him not. Ill state
It plain. Yet thousands to our diner speed.
For though all cards of plastic we reject,
We also serve the only Spam in state."


On First Looking into Hormels Spam

Much have I eaten out of silver cans,
And many goodly meals and soups consumed;
Downed tasty treats from many pots and pans
And breads and jams and condiments perfumed.
But of food less expensive Id been told
That one proud Hormel tinned for wartime ration
Yet did I never taste this porcine dream
Till my can opener raised its lid, Behold!
Then felt I like some lawyer on the rise
When fast-food client stings with coffee burn;
Or like stout Clinton, who with evil eyes,
Ogling specifics of his new intern
Smiled to himself at a wild surmise
Silent, with just a peek, in Washington.

"graham" > wrote in message
...
> On Eating Spam for Christmas
>
> When unimpressed with turkey and mince pies,
> I all alone beweep my outcast state,
> And curse fat Santa with ungrateful cries,
> And look on tasteless gifts from folks I hate,
> Wishing I had the riches I have not,
> Futures like him, like him of funds possess'd,
> Desiring this man's wife, and that man's yacht,
> With what I most enjoy presented least:
> Yet in these thoughts the season most despising,
> Haply I dine on Spam,--and then my state
> (Like to some butterfly of hope arising
> From misty dusk) sings carols at God's gate;
> For on sweet Spam I dine with such trimmings
> That I relish Christmas joys oerbrimmings.
>
>
> "Let me not to the contents of thy can"
>
> Let me not to the contents of thy can
> Add any condiments. Spam is not Spam
> When altered by unbalanced minds,
> Or flaked when the remover doth remove:
> O no; it is the ever-fixed pork,
> Uncooked, ungarnished, and by Time undinted;
> It is like gold to every plundering fork,
> Whose worth's unknown, although its price be printed.
> Spams not uncool, though rosy-hued and cheap
> And from it oily trickles constant come;
> Spam alters not, doth neither wake nor sleep,
> Its worth cries out though it be deaf and dumb.
> If this be error, and such claims a sham,
> Neer have I writ, and neer man ate of Spam.
>
> On His Spamlessness
>
> When I consider how my Spam is spent
> Ere half my time in this lunch hours gone by,
> And thirty minutes left I sit and cry
> Longingly Spamless, though my soul be bent
> To be served with more, €œWaitress€� I relent
> With gloomy frown, when she returns apace,
> "Do you accept Mastercard in this place?"
> I fondly ask. But Waitress, to prevent
> That murmur, soon replies, "We hath not need
> Of anything except hard cash. Who fails
> To tender such, we serve him not. Ill state
> It plain. Yet thousands to our diner speed.
> For though all cards of plastic we reject,
> We also serve the only Spam in state."
>
>
> On First Looking into Hormels Spam
>
> Much have I eaten out of silver cans,
> And many goodly meals and soups consumed;
> Downed tasty treats from many pots and pans
> And breads and jams and condiments perfumed.
> But of food less expensive Id been told
> That one proud Hormel tinned for wartime ration
> Yet did I never taste this porcine dream
> Till my can opener raised its lid, Behold!
> Then felt I like some lawyer on the rise
> When fast-food client stings with coffee burn;
> Or like stout Clinton, who with evil eyes,
> Ogling specifics of his new intern
> Smiled to himself at a wild surmise
> Silent, with just a peek, in Washington.

lol did you er write/paraphrase that? if so *applause* )

--
http://www.helpforheroes.org.uk/shop/

On 24/12/2015 1:17 AM, Ophelia wrote:
>
>
> "graham" > wrote in message
> ...
>> On Eating Spam for Christmas
>>
>> When unimpressed with turkey and mince pies,
>> I all alone beweep my outcast state,
>> And curse fat Santa with ungrateful cries,
>> And look on tasteless gifts from folks I hate,
>> Wishing I had the riches I have not,
>> Futures like him, like him of funds possess'd,
>> Desiring this man's wife, and that man's yacht,
>> With what I most enjoy presented least:
>> Yet in these thoughts the season most despising,
>> Haply I dine on Spam,--and then my state
>> (Like to some butterfly of hope arising
>> From misty dusk) sings carols at God's gate;
>> For on sweet Spam I dine with such trimmings
>> That I relish Christmas joys oerbrimmings.
>>
>>
>> "Let me not to the contents of thy can"
>>
>> Let me not to the contents of thy can
>> Add any condiments. Spam is not Spam
>> When altered by unbalanced minds,
>> Or flaked when the remover doth remove:
>> O no; it is the ever-fixed pork,
>> Uncooked, ungarnished, and by Time undinted;
>> It is like gold to every plundering fork,
>> Whose worth's unknown, although its price be printed.
>> Spams not uncool, though rosy-hued and cheap
>> And from it oily trickles constant come;
>> Spam alters not, doth neither wake nor sleep,
>> Its worth cries out though it be deaf and dumb.
>> If this be error, and such claims a sham,
>> Neer have I writ, and neer man ate of Spam.
>>
>> On His Spamlessness
>>
>> When I consider how my Spam is spent
>> Ere half my time in this lunch hours gone by,
>> And thirty minutes left I sit and cry
>> Longingly Spamless, though my soul be bent
>> To be served with more, €œWaitress€� I relent
>> With gloomy frown, when she returns apace,
>> "Do you accept Mastercard in this place?"
>> I fondly ask. But Waitress, to prevent
>> That murmur, soon replies, "We hath not need
>> Of anything except hard cash. Who fails
>> To tender such, we serve him not. Ill state
>> It plain. Yet thousands to our diner speed.
>> For though all cards of plastic we reject,
>> We also serve the only Spam in state."
>>
>>
>> On First Looking into Hormels Spam
>>
>> Much have I eaten out of silver cans,
>> And many goodly meals and soups consumed;
>> Downed tasty treats from many pots and pans
>> And breads and jams and condiments perfumed.
>> But of food less expensive Id been told
>> That one proud Hormel tinned for wartime ration
>> Yet did I never taste this porcine dream
>> Till my can opener raised its lid, Behold!
>> Then felt I like some lawyer on the rise
>> When fast-food client stings with coffee burn;
>> Or like stout Clinton, who with evil eyes,
>> Ogling specifics of his new intern
>> Smiled to himself at a wild surmise
>> Silent, with just a peek, in Washington.
>
> lol did you er write/paraphrase that? if so *applause* )
>
No! I wish I had! I've downloaded others too. I think they were the
result of a newspaper competition.
Graham

"graham" > wrote in message
...
> On 24/12/2015 1:17 AM, Ophelia wrote:
>>
>>
>> "graham" > wrote in message
>> ...
>>> On Eating Spam for Christmas
>>>
>>> When unimpressed with turkey and mince pies,
>>> I all alone beweep my outcast state,
>>> And curse fat Santa with ungrateful cries,
>>> And look on tasteless gifts from folks I hate,
>>> Wishing I had the riches I have not,
>>> Futures like him, like him of funds possess'd,
>>> Desiring this man's wife, and that man's yacht,
>>> With what I most enjoy presented least:
>>> Yet in these thoughts the season most despising,
>>> Haply I dine on Spam,--and then my state
>>> (Like to some butterfly of hope arising
>>> From misty dusk) sings carols at God's gate;
>>> For on sweet Spam I dine with such trimmings
>>> That I relish Christmas joys oerbrimmings.
>>>
>>>
>>> "Let me not to the contents of thy can"
>>>
>>> Let me not to the contents of thy can
>>> Add any condiments. Spam is not Spam
>>> When altered by unbalanced minds,
>>> Or flaked when the remover doth remove:
>>> O no; it is the ever-fixed pork,
>>> Uncooked, ungarnished, and by Time undinted;
>>> It is like gold to every plundering fork,
>>> Whose worth's unknown, although its price be printed.
>>> Spams not uncool, though rosy-hued and cheap
>>> And from it oily trickles constant come;
>>> Spam alters not, doth neither wake nor sleep,
>>> Its worth cries out though it be deaf and dumb.
>>> If this be error, and such claims a sham,
>>> Neer have I writ, and neer man ate of Spam.
>>>
>>> On His Spamlessness
>>>
>>> When I consider how my Spam is spent
>>> Ere half my time in this lunch hours gone by,
>>> And thirty minutes left I sit and cry
>>> Longingly Spamless, though my soul be bent
>>> To be served with more, €œWaitress€� I relent
>>> With gloomy frown, when she returns apace,
>>> "Do you accept Mastercard in this place?"
>>> I fondly ask. But Waitress, to prevent
>>> That murmur, soon replies, "We hath not need
>>> Of anything except hard cash. Who fails
>>> To tender such, we serve him not. Ill state
>>> It plain. Yet thousands to our diner speed.
>>> For though all cards of plastic we reject,
>>> We also serve the only Spam in state."
>>>
>>>
>>> On First Looking into Hormels Spam
>>>
>>> Much have I eaten out of silver cans,
>>> And many goodly meals and soups consumed;
>>> Downed tasty treats from many pots and pans
>>> And breads and jams and condiments perfumed.
>>> But of food less expensive Id been told
>>> That one proud Hormel tinned for wartime ration
>>> Yet did I never taste this porcine dream
>>> Till my can opener raised its lid, Behold!
>>> Then felt I like some lawyer on the rise
>>> When fast-food client stings with coffee burn;
>>> Or like stout Clinton, who with evil eyes,
>>> Ogling specifics of his new intern
>>> Smiled to himself at a wild surmise
>>> Silent, with just a peek, in Washington.
>>
>> lol did you er write/paraphrase that? if so *applause* )
>>
> No! I wish I had! I've downloaded others too. I think they were the result
> of a newspaper competition.

Well it gave me a good giggle anyway so thanks for posting


--
http://www.helpforheroes.org.uk/shop/