Mischief
I think I have a grem/in, lurking in my words
I'd left a win/ow open and thought it was the birds
But then I heard a thud and a cry for he/p
Saw the little blighter, the elf upon the shelf.
He got very hungry, some letters he did eat
Put slashes where the letters were, do / admit defeat
It was for a contest, no time to put it right
hope that when its judged ,'twi/l be the dark of night.
Oh well I'll send it off, I've got nowt to lose
Meanwhile I'll write another if / can find my muse
That elf upon the she/f has caused me some grief
Never would I have had him down as a letter thief.
(a rhyme but some of the letters have been eaten away and replaced with forward slashes by a wicked elf)
Written 3rd October
For muschi/f contes/ sponsored by N/na Parment/r.
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