A Hornpipe for Super Irish Dancing Girl
This has got to be the funniest poem I have ever written... ever.
A Hornpipe For Super Irish Dancing Girl
Behold!
Upon the stage,
A girl with S upon her skirt
and dressed in colours white and green
On her head -
curly wig!
Danced a jig to save the day
and used a kick to catch the foe
Never fear - guess who's here?
It's Super Irish Dancing Girl!
Oh no!
In boring class
the prof has kidnapped all our laughs
and we are sinking in our chairs
cannot breath
want to scream
Does it seem that all is lost?
She does a click above her head!
See the prof - screaming (cough),
"It's Super Irish Dancing Girl!"
The park!
It's full of snow
The wind is creeping through our bones
Our fingers stiffen from the cold
So much ice
Help us please!
We will freeze without some heat
When from behind a line of trees
It's a cart - hot choc'late
from Super Irish Dancing Girl!
A mess
Across my socks
The coffee splashed from toes to hem
Some costly socks go down the drain
What to do?
How to dance?
Nothing fancy is around
But Tide-to-Go will do the trick
(That's not true. Anyhoo…)
It's Super Irish Dancing Girl!
All hear!
You have a need?
A situation to dissolve?
A super villain in your life?
What bad luck!
But no more!
Find a floor that's good for dance
And call for aid to come at once
Et voila! Here she is!
It's Super Irish Dancing Girl!
(And she's even got a cape!)
-x-
And for any Irish dancers reading this, note the rhythm. The poem has been written to the rhythm of the very first hornpipe I ever learned.
... I drew a comic, too, in which Super Irish Dancing Girl defeats the evil Econ teacher with a high Super Click to the head, and then we have a dance party. I tell you, my classes were INCREDIBLY BORING today.
A Hornpipe For Super Irish Dancing Girl
Behold!
Upon the stage,
A girl with S upon her skirt
and dressed in colours white and green
On her head -
curly wig!
Danced a jig to save the day
and used a kick to catch the foe
Never fear - guess who's here?
It's Super Irish Dancing Girl!
Oh no!
In boring class
the prof has kidnapped all our laughs
and we are sinking in our chairs
cannot breath
want to scream
Does it seem that all is lost?
She does a click above her head!
See the prof - screaming (cough),
"It's Super Irish Dancing Girl!"
The park!
It's full of snow
The wind is creeping through our bones
Our fingers stiffen from the cold
So much ice
Help us please!
We will freeze without some heat
When from behind a line of trees
It's a cart - hot choc'late
from Super Irish Dancing Girl!
A mess
Across my socks
The coffee splashed from toes to hem
Some costly socks go down the drain
What to do?
How to dance?
Nothing fancy is around
But Tide-to-Go will do the trick
(That's not true. Anyhoo…)
It's Super Irish Dancing Girl!
All hear!
You have a need?
A situation to dissolve?
A super villain in your life?
What bad luck!
But no more!
Find a floor that's good for dance
And call for aid to come at once
Et voila! Here she is!
It's Super Irish Dancing Girl!
(And she's even got a cape!)
-x-
And for any Irish dancers reading this, note the rhythm. The poem has been written to the rhythm of the very first hornpipe I ever learned.
... I drew a comic, too, in which Super Irish Dancing Girl defeats the evil Econ teacher with a high Super Click to the head, and then we have a dance party. I tell you, my classes were INCREDIBLY BORING today.