Hello Radrook!
What a fascinating poem you have written. xD It was funny, and your rhyme was completely on-point. It didn't feel forced, but fun. Though the last stanza fell out of the aabb scheme with the first two lines. But looking back through... "door" and "galore" in stanza 2 don't exactly rhyme as well as the other words - just more so than "urine" and "lean".
They took their time before my door
a neigh, a stomp, and snorts galore
whilst coachmen blathered bout the weather
bout Bertha's butt and sumptuous Heather
I like how the coachmen are characterized so wonderfully through their conversation. :p But one thing I am wondering is where the narrator is well, sleeping. Or trying to sleep. Why did they take their time before Narrator's door? Does he have his own house, or not? The timeline here is obviously not modern-day, so I thought maybe he was at an inn or something. I might be pondering this too deeply, but it doesn't make sense to me why they pause at his door if the passengers aren't coming into his home.
So having stored my foul urine
This was the only line I found odd. "Stored" sounds as if he currently finished this task, storing it up for the moment, when in all actuality he didn't plan to be disturbed that night, so how would he know to store it?
But wow - what an interesting way to execute revenge. xD
This was a fun read, and thanks for sharing!
Hope this helps,
~rosette
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