Frills to Buy a Fortune

I can’t find a ferret to gore the lies off

To trouble the muse is to peril the ruse

 
The hide’s a scare beneath a lad low

The jack’s drool can drill and find a crow care a throw

 
Off the root and border routing the mood

It’s a booted blue that drivels the truth

 
How fond I find the lac to wind to thread the spill

And the feat that features a fiddle playing in between

 
A puddle treating a puzzle to fizzle out in a guzzle

The strata strait of stream, staking the steam

 
A figure breaking a boast to deburden frost off foe

In all likeliness, to trouble the teeth to bow

 
It’s a scarred screw that drives a broken mouth

The leverage is a pound worth. Wait. Not in compound.

 

© Prateek Joshi and WordPress, 2017

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