Grimble gramble, groused the grue when tossling up it saw,
A rare ragnunctious rander with kithering cole and slaw.
Skipping and skapping the rander wrothe, noticing none the least,
That every skap and every skip, did nearen him to the beast.
That groutful grue with famping fangs and sheer unyielding kreel,
Would feast once, twice, and thrice again on such a framptious meal.
Its tapping trendils and trapping tendrils waited for their turn,
To pap, snack, crop and slamp away the meaty little kern.
Tho sun was shining loudly, and clouds were drifting bright,
No warning warned the rander, the plightness of his plight.
He skipped too far, he skapped too near, and soon he’d pay the price,
With swaftest speed the grue struck out and neatly snortched a slice.
Not once, of course, but twice, and thrice, for rander, slaw and cole,
It schlumped the three with kithering, and bruised on to its hole.
Tis only fair, it later shared, whilst it wheezed thru lordling sneezes,
One cannot skap and skip one’s roins, any way one pleases.
You might want to get that mole on your chest checked out.
Shhh! I tell people that that is my nipple!
it’s your mipple!
Cute poem! You really should get that mole checked!!!!
Good poem…slightly disappointed you couldn’t work “tupping” into it. ๐
The poem to me is about a young Norwegian boy who cannot decide if he should eat pickled herring or ginger snaps. Very beautiful.
How prodigious a grue, to masticate the very cove he was stagging.
I have applied all my analytical powers to this poem, and I have concluded that it is the work of a genius, who deserves a happy birthday.
Me like you poem. Happy late birthday brother.