The Bookworm - Parody Robert Burns - The Bookworm Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

The worm squirmed as he swore
that all bindings were a bore
as he burrowed all the more
between the leaves;
through the pages slowly tore
while becoming more and more
lettered, lengthy, with a store
of memories.
Noting music by the score,
dots and dashes he’d adore,
punctuating to the core
all the sheaves.

After Robert BURNS – The Bookworm

© Jonathan Robin Poem written 29 November 1987

The Bookworm

Through and through the inspired leaves,
You maggots, make your windings;
But oh, respect his lordship’s taste,
And spare the golden bindings.

Robert BURNS