Nancy and Bill are travelers great,

On many a trip they ate and ate,

They ate and ate and drank some too,

And grew and grew and grew and grew.

Doggreal like this should never be,

But Larry, Bill's Dad, just had to see,

If  poetry his forte might be,

Perhaps a  Byron or Tennyson he?

Fine sonnets we tell him he does write,

Dad thought about this late one night,

He entertained a doubt or two,

Concluding at last it just ain't true.