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About This Poem
A Silly Song For Mookie
See the old Drimbles
dressed in buckles and bells,
whispering whim-chills
and come-set-a-spells
while yucca pots witcher
and watcher their wares
over tea cups and quarrels with
gold sunset stares.
Oh, happy the long-beam
that scatters with flee
the shadows of nightfall
for you, and for me.
Who cottons our candy
and fluffs stuff around
while making much noise
without any sound?
Is it......I?
Is it...he?
Is it you?
Is it she?
Or is it cautious fair-winders
set sail on high seas,
who whistle humdingers
while eating their peas?
All dandy long whiskers
will chuckle and shout:
“IT’S ALL-OVER-UNDER!”
and, “FAIR TURN-ABOUT!”
So gather your lucky
every-way days,
tame all your turnips
and go on your ways
to the land of old Drimbles
dressed in buckles and bells
who chase off the spookles
and hand out all’s-wells.
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