I'm tickled to the marrow
by Humpty Dumpty and Mia Farrow,
but how far will it carry,
this giddy Mia Marrow ferry?

Will anyone hear my shriek and call
from up the darkish Dumpty wall?
Perhaps I shall sail and be too far gone
with not a trace of a Farrow liaison?

Or with no functioning chute at all,
per chance I'll jump off Sir Humpty's wall
Either way it's a tarnished tall tale told
that will leave all the publishers stale and cold

but the pencil will have done its job,
to prove I'm a grand poetic slob
and you will have understood my aim
to rhyme and to play a poetic game