A really awfully tasteless rhyme giving rationale on rats as rations

For today’s NaPoWriMo prompt, we are invited to wax lyrical on something affecting at least three of the five senses.  This invites a rhapsodic eulogy on the joys to be experienced from sight, smell, sound, touch and taste.

With having had to dash to Pinetown for stocks, and then to the print shop re some cartridges too mean to dislodge their ink, and then to R’s regular swimming lesson, and knowing we are leaving early to go to a show tonight, it didn’t leave much time for scribbling.  Still, I’m sure the sheer beauty of the images in this offering will astound and delight.

A rat I saw slink up a rafter,
And wondered just what he was after;
Looked tatty, not fat,
And one could tell that
‘Twas some sort of sewer that rat had been at
By testing the perfume that wafted behind –
The odour was such as a person might find
Inside a latrine;
It smelt quite obscene;
And thus one knew, as I have said, where he’d been. 

His pelt felt all sticky and yucky
And just as it looked, which was mucky;
In fact, to the touch,
It was rather such
As turds and whey, mashed up a little too much;
His squeak was discordant, and injured the ear:
It wasn’t a sound that was pleasant to hear …
And as for the taste,
I was in no haste
To try it out; therefore that rat went to waste.

© Colonialist April 2014 (WordPress)