Once upon a wistful time

there was a thistle and a thyme

they grew and grew, with life, with time

until their leaves began to grime

Began to grime, with time, with time

-

One day the thyme, within it’s prime,

began to think, began to rhyme

the thistle thought the thyme sublime

the thyme the thistle like a mime

Silent as a mime, a mime

-

Later on, a fine equine

came upon the little thyme

and decided it was time

to satisfy a hunger pine

The helpless little thyme, the thyme

-

Thistle, loving his friend thyme,

Poked the equine with a spine

Who then made a fast beeline

To see if he could find a lime

To satisfy his pine, his pine

-

I’m sure you know it’s quite a crime

Not to be a rhyming thyme

In a garden made for thymes

Who have a gift with rhyming rhymes

The thistle’s time, the thistle’s time

-

Sensing an ominous deadline,

the thyme decided it was time

to leave the thistle far behind;

to climb and to befriend the lime

Befriend the lime, the limey lime

-

The lime began to undermine

ex-friend thistle, to the thyme

and make rude gestures, make rude signs

and drop upon the thistle, slime

Cranky, bitchy, bastard lime

-

One day, a homosapi-ein

came and looked upon the lime

and decided it was time

to have tequila with a lime

Thyme lost the lime, the limey lime

-

The same homosapi-ein

looked upon the thistle, thyme

and decided it was time

to have a yummy salad.

-

If you think I took the time

to tell you a moral, sublime

‘bout keeping friends in desperate times.

Well, that’s a bunch of bullshit…ime.

-

I tell you of the thistle, thyme,

and the fool whom we call lime

simply because it is a crime

to forget your snacky time.

AN-Apologies for the sorry attempt at humor. If you want some even worse, read my profile, in which I try to seem cool by purposefully acting strange.