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Library: The tale of Mo Bedall
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Author: rigger
Date:Dec 20 2008
Tales of woe they have their place.
some tales put a smile upon your face.
But the most intriguing tale of all.
Is that of Mr Mo Bedall.
For he was was such a charming fellow.
His lovers all naught spit but swallow.
He'd woo a new one every night,
And sometimes with thier spouses fight.
Mo woundn't rest long in each town,
for all the fathers did hunt him down.
He'd flee into the charcoal dusk,
still reeking of his mate's sweet musk.
Sometimes a pause he'd have to take,
when he found sores upon his snake.
He'd aquire the witches healing cream
(in trade he'd have to make her scream).
Slowly as his years grew long,
few there were who'd not heard his song.
o'er hill and dale they all knew,
Mr Bedall he did like to screw.
Then came the day, he thought is best,
When sixty maidens with heaving chests,
Did come a knocking on his door.
His old mind raced with l'amour.
Obvious, his thoughts of blissful death.
The girls then said in one long breath
"Oh, sir I don't think you oughta,
for each of us we is your daughter."
This was too much for Mo to take.
Droop it did his trouser snake.
His heart it did begin to flutter,
He hit the ground with neigh a mutter.
The tale of Mo lives on in warning.
Keep low the volume of your boning.
Or pull out quick as priests would do
And maybe your children won't find you.
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