The moon were at its full that night
when I first heard Horace croak,
’twere on the road to Froghall
some eight miles east of Stoke.

Why I called him Horace
I’ve not a bloody clue!
-anyway, that’s beside the point,
he were cold and somewhat blue.

I gathered up some logs and twigs
and made a little fire
and placed him by heartenin’ flames
-he began then to perspire.

In a short while he began to smoke
and crackle quite a bit
and then began to sizzle, so
I stuck him on a spit.

And the moon were at its full that night
when I last heard Horace croak
-he didn’t die of lung cancer
but it taught him not to smoke.

…Humans can seriously damage your health.