Sprezzatura for A. D. Hope While Absent From The Poets Lunch
by Alan Gould
Professor Alec Derwent Hope’s
the bloke who knows his verbal tropes.
Alliterate it, rhyme it, pun it,
this likely lad’s already done it,
shinned up and down those metric ropes.
We need a dozen Alec Hopes.
This Alec Derwent Hope, Professor,
him bilonga Kenneth Slessor.
With iamb, trochee, anapaest
he keeps nine muses all undressed.
Jawohl! Und wird er immer besser,
this bright-eyed Alec Hope, Professor.
Ah, Alec Hope, Professor Derwent,
I’ve seen which topics made him fervent
as he sat avec his bottle,
imagination at full throttle,
tracking where each carnal stir went,
that sly old charmer, Alec Derwent.
Derwent Hope, Professor Alec,
ubique-peregrino-phallic,
and if I had a better rhyme,
upon that jumbo I would climb
and skywrite in a bold italic,
Here’s health to you, Professor Alec.
