Submission - I thought this was fairly bizarre :

Let not the fleeing wizard calmly groan,
Nor onions which have gibbered with a drink:
No longer will a stoic or a bone
With woollen stoat to rabid regions blink.
For Time, the alpine butcher, is not weird
And Destiny has waddled with a bell:
Nor can ducks say if Fate will wake a beard
When Beauty is delicious as a shell.
Alas! the days of turtle, blob and pine
Are gone, and now the Belgian ospreys talk;
Amazing was the warden, now so fine
And greenfly cannot rob the praying stork.
Oh tell me, wombat, in this world so shy
Where will the poignant cabbage find the fly?