Standing stock still on the Storyhouse stage

Purringly, the poet poked, parried, proselytised and punned

It was a wry, rhythmic romp, a rhyming rampage

With fulfilling Fibonacci fables, felines and one Frisbee being flung

Meteoric, metaphysical, making mincemeat of the Mail

Wielding words with wondrous wit

The Lemsip Laureate left a trail

Of moments that will hang about a bit

It was an assembly or anthology of anathema and analogy

A deprecating distillation of our nation

Lacking nothing in hilarity and verbosity with clarity

Brian Bilston is more than just alliteration