Down, Down and Down

My sturdy friend was falling in
The wicked weary wood,
Despite the juggling football match
Who never thought he could.

But then, he always said
That he would turn the other cheek,
If a duck came into hearing
With an ignoramus beak.

It can’t have been a spasm
Which induced the age-old lamb
To borderline the opal neck
Of Gordon Hamper’s pram.

But rock, and pine, and awful lies
This time appeared in town,
To satisfy the rug-swept friends
Who slowly brambled down.

The answer, if you’ve followed me
As twenty somethings do,
Is never to be hungry
If you’ll ever follow through.