The Sprout and the Cabbage went to sea
In a suitable egg shell boat.
The waves were so high
They thought they would die,
But viscosity kept them afloat.
The sprout cried out: “Oh, Cabbage, my dear!
Wrap your green leaves around me!
Hold on to me tight, and all through the night,
We’ll stay safe in this treacherous sea!”
But the cabbage replied, as they lurched to one side:
“Steady! You lecherous lout!
My life would be wrecked, if my family suspect
I’m at sea with a sex- crazed sprout!”
The Sprout, thus chastised,
Feared their boat might capsize,
And made no further advance.
When the weather had calmed
He declared himself charmed
By the cabbage’s virginal stance.
Then the moon appeared, with the stars above
And the Sprout serenaded his true Cabbage love:
“Oh Cabbage!” he sang, as he strummed his guitar
“What a beautiful big round Cabbage you are!”
The Cabbage’s heart, like the sea had before,
Pounded and swelled – could this be l’amour?
“Oh kiss me, oh kiss me!” the Cabbage declared,
And the Sprout leapt to do as the Cabbage now dared.
So the Sprout and the Cabbage spooned through the night
As the moon shone down a silvery light.
“My veggie! My dear!” they both called out.
“Oh Cabbage! Oh, Cabbage!” “Oh, Sprout! Oh, Sprout!”
In the morning, they woke, side by side
“Oh, Cabbage, my love!” the enraptured Sprout cried;
“Marry me Cabbage, and away we will go,
To a large open field, and there we will grow,
And ripen and bloom and have lots of seed,
There with each other, for that’s all we need!”
But the Cabbage replied “That’s all very fine,
But there’s things I must have, if you want to be mine!
Like quince, and mince, and a runcible spoon,
And shoes for a dance, by the light of the moon!
And money and honey, and a little pig’s ring!
So you’ll have to do more than just strum and sing!
To get all we need will cost a few bob;
I’m afraid, Sprout, it means, you’d best get a job!”
Sprout sadly sighed, for a working life
Was the price he must pay for his dear Cabbage wife.
And so, every day, he slaved away,
For the rent of a small double room.
But then every night, to their endless delight,
They danced by the light of the moon.
Yes, Cabbage and Sprout, each night they went out
And danced by the light of the moon.
This parody of Edward Lear’s “The Owl and the Pussy-cat” was posted last July by Martin Brown on his Cabbagefactory blog; more Learish and much nonsense material is available.