Ka-Thump-A-Loon

Ka-thump-a-loon, my pet raccoon, sings opera in the woods at noon; I love so much to hear him croon. At night he carols to the moon. If you are lucky you might hear the songs he sings most loud and clear; he plans to make it his career with performances both far and near. He will audition sometime soon, accompanied by his pal baboon who plays a really mean bassoon; I know they'll make the critics swoon. I guess I'll have to go along and keep long lists of all his songs and iron his wardrobe of sarongs, protect him from the cheering throngs. He seems excited, that's for sure; he never has been too demure. He keeps asking for a new coiffure, a glitter mani- and pedicure. Last night that crazy old raccoon sucked on a helium balloon and ate way too much crab Rangoon, said he planned to change his tune. He switched his genre to rock and roll, thinks he can sing with a lot of soul; winning American Idol his one goal with its million dollar prize bankroll. Things are getting out of hand; the raccoon's plans are just too grand; I wish he'd join the forest band and forget this superstar status plan. Success can never come too soon to a want-to-be Las Vegas tycoon who dreams of a big penthouse saloon, Ka-thump-a-loon, my pet raccoon. Faye Lanham Gibson Copyright, August 18, 2015