A Krutsinger
A krutsinger’s a banshee bard
who wards off Dends from in her yard,
a place that’s filled with sprites and gnomes
and tiny little hobbit homes.
Her observations, somewhat skewed -
hilarious, but never crude.
The source, it seems, does me elude,
but from her pores, they do exude
(I hope that she won’t find me rude.)
So I suggest we name a form,
and let the krutsinger be born.
Just take a thought, however strange,
and with your pen then rearrange
into a sprawling raucous rhyme,
insert non sequiturs like ‘lime’.
In truth, the lines should be a good bit longer,
for as they grow, a krutsinger gets stronger.
Delightful rhymes, these, in the whole -
a bit like playing whack-a-mole.
One never knows who one meets there:
a witch, a frog, a talking bear.
So sit down with a favored cup;
another batch is freshly up!
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