While talking on the homophone
I heard the strangest thing.
I heard a girl named Summer Winter
fall into a spring.

I heard a knight who mourned
for Eve and Dawn one afternoon
was later weakened in a daze
by April, May and June.

I heard a baker pinched some dough
and pitched the batter too.
But when the owner fired him
the loafer wouldn’t shoo.

I heard a psychic wagered stakes
and gamboled as she won.
It’s rare to see a medium
who’s ever so well done.

I heard the toast made butter fly.
The reason? It was plain.
I heard the king was always wet.
He blamed his lifetime reign.

But now he’s dry; at eight feet tall
his crown was over throne.
I guess that’s what I get
for talking on the homophone.