Valerie yearned to be a spy
She hid her name, she hid her Plame
She dined on foreign meat and cake
In alleys dark she learned to rove
She longed to kiss another’s lips
Though such lips are oft mistrusted

Drunk, she danced as if she trusted
Joe Wilson, who was not a spy
These vows were passed between their lips:
Forever Wilson, no more Plame
Our hearts, they shall no longer rove
Till death, I do, now cut the cake

Ambassador Wilson ate cake
He gazed upon the wife he trusted
He lost his job when old Karl Rove
Got Bush elected, though no spy
Would lose her job, not even Plame
Secrets would still pass through her lips

Her husband’s name passed through her lips
To look into the yellowcake
The CIA through Ms. née Plame
Needed someone whom they trusted
To act almost as if a spy
To Niger he would need to rove

Great anger spewed from Mr. Rove
When 16 words passed Bush’s lips
Not true, said Wilson, I espy
Iraq did not seek yellowcake
Forgeries cannot be trusted
So Rove then outed poor Ms. Plame

Novak published the name of Plame
The name he clearly got from Rove
Laws seem broken, Rove mistrusted
A reporter jailed for her locked lips
All because Rove just wants his cake
And eats it too as you can spy

The punishment for Rove’s loose lips
Will be a trusted slice of cake
But not for Plame the former spy