Encounter

On my travels such was my plight
Did Gulliver or Passé partout with all their might

Slip in a puddle in broad daylight
Were they bait to such a trait

In their Sunday best waiting for a suitor
Who would pronounce romance truer

The mishap with the hair
That turned bald and bare

Thinking of the worlds miseries
Had there been no fisheries

No salmon and no trout
To bring about a prick in the mouth

With the writing to bleed
Promising a bond in a deed