If I can spark the occasional smile of amusement or trigger a line of thought once in a while, that’s enough. In the long run, it’s all dust. (That latter commentary was more on the thought-provoking than the amusing side of the equation.)
Sometimes the syllables matter:
It meant to say, “Stow cars away
Someplace that is not here.”
But just one unfortunate break
Is all it takes to make it say:
“Middling Monarchs are Banned.”
His steady sails he never furls
At any time o' year,
And perching now on Winter's curls,
He whistles in his ear
There are flying cars here. I fear my death will be by chucked beer bottle.
one-legged crow squats
to explode into flight;
false alarm!
The mountain and the squirrel
Had a quarrel;
And the former called the latter ‘Little Prig.’
Bun replied,
‘You are doubtless very big;
But all sorts of things and weather
Must be taken in together,
To make up a year
And a sphere.
And I think it no disgrace
To occupy my place.
If I'm not so large as you,
You are not so small as I,
And not half so spry.
I'll not deny you make
A very pretty squirrel track;
Talents differ; all is well and wisely put;
If I cannot carry forests on my back,
Neither can you crack a nut.’
Tiger Riding for Beginners 