And doth does the lorrywind blow
Through the trees, knickerbees and go
For sill the doomed wrath of grapes
Come after heavy drinking, purple capes

Cover the land from shore to sea
And hither thou philosophy
And credule from the crimson lover divine
To nich my own life back to line
Fore still the rings have rung their spell

And whither blew the boorly bell
For thither had the ginger snatch
And yet the words and sounds don't match

Pens write for days and days for time
To try and tame the gruely grime
Of the world, who's chasing geese
And still running, and shall not cease

For creases are imnompopily
And going completely unstopily
And so we sit and play monopoly
And the rat will grease his brow.

So I moot the waggling wumpus
And dwarfed the figgling pine
So smorumph was the biggly boot
By then I felt divine.

I bravely whammed the wigglewart
And stumped the wriggling whyne
Then shot the ringergingersnatch
Be then, I felt just fine

I thook the molty wharawoot
And gnashed the gangly zee,
Then threw up on the flippertongs
Who proceeded to kick me.

So with my ring I rang away
And blew the boorly bell
Played with the thneed who came to play
Because he plays quite well.

Then with the oohs and oh's and ahs
I came to hug a tree
Who said "glug moot ee eh forawahs"
And gave a hug to me.

And then I saw a man in plight
He's shooing up a dooth
I came around to set him right
And knocked him in his tooth.

And so the wumble with resigns
Before the bitters cry
And pushing roung a whyney rhyne
And I gave a heavy sigh.

Three or four or five o'clock
The timblewhom rightly spoke
But I leeched his blingling tock
And laughed at his dumb joke.

But the yecks and string and microscopes
Were too much for our home
We took the many isotopes
And through the sands we roam.

So I moot the waggling wumpus
And as the bitters cry
I followed my directional compass
And now I say goodbye.





~ K M Radley, she wrote proudly.