Sound Abounds Poem by Jan Sand

The noise of boys
Enjoys a royal lack of poise
Whereas the glittered twitter
Girls emit has, one must admit
That bit of wit to generate
Pandemic snit, sometimes fit
And sometimes merely bitter litter,
Ploys of misdirected verbal toys.

The howls of owls, mostly vowels
Contrasts with fowl=s chicken clucks
And quacks of ducks, like the clacks
Of hockey pucks, well fortified
With consonants, much like cries
Of shifting continents which pop,
Also roar and thunder as land masses
Stumble, blunder, lifting mountains,
Squashing plains, generating hurricanes
Like a monster cosmic sneeze
To seize the trees and knock people
To their knees, soaking oaks
In windy pokes, quaking blokes
To their bowels so they rush
Inside to hide and wipe their faces
Dry with towels.

When eating leeks one should take peeks
At what squeaks and swiftly sneaks from baseboard holes -
Most likely mice or things not nice
Like moles and voles that move in shoals
To seek their goals - say, dried out rolls
That, left in bowls, stale, to look like
Crumpled poles or, perhaps, like parrot beaks.

Therefore, when sound gets out of bounds,
It=s good advice to stuff your ears
With sticky rice, or perhaps it might suffice
To use a slice of worn out shoes that might bemuse
A crowd of peers, inspire jeers and sidelong leers
Whose social force would scare a horse.
But never mind, if they=re not kind you can, of course,

Bury them in lemon rinds or other kinds
Of fruity skins collected out of garbage bins -
Which might result in raucous dins
Or other awful unlawful sounds.