While posting on the mudcat site,
so many a tune did borrow,
my songs inflamed, many a fascist clan
and one wee guest named Yarrow

This Yarrow she did post with spite
and many a phrase so callow
Invective she hurled with all her might
did this one wee guest named Yarrow

But words bereft of mighty wit
where met with naught but sorrow
for one who posts with no real point
this one wee guest named Yarrow

So poets all, raise up yer glass
We'll toast and sing till it be morrow
And when the words flow fast and free
We'll have a dram for Yarrow
Larry