brave be brevity
laugh at loopy levity
with luck ~ longevity
A person with soothing expressions,
Lives each moment of the sessions.
Your heartwarming smile,
shines like twilight .
Always aspire to make others feel happy,
With all your joking and wacky.
Wins every controversy with harmonious peace,
Puts our mind at ease.
Lives the life to its full,
Fights all your dearth with soulful.
You are like a burning candle,
Who ends the darkness & be glamour.
When called for gopias,
Become loopy with your thoughts exotic .
Possess pleasant personality,
With a whole hearted reality.
You spread joy and cheer,
We hold you so dear.
quite a unique lobster had travelled to the Ancient past using the Antikythera mechanism somehow’
‘where upon this inquisitive bottom-feeder ‘being now onboard-some Kind of weird blue Ocean going vessel ,
Proceeded to Then drop ‘said device over board and back through the Spiralling wade of time ,
Destined eventually to be found by quite a unique lobster ????
Bumpy Loop and Loopy Bump,
Jumped off a speeding train,
But both were rather fortunate,
And lived to jump again.
Bumpy Loop just bounced and bounced,
For he was round and rubbery,
Loopy Bump went flying down,
And crushed into a shrubbery.
The speeding train kept rolling on,
And sprinted out of sight,
Now Bumpy Loop and Loopy Bump,
Are stuck there in the night.
don't look so surprised
nothing but predictable
hold on for the ride
***
Are you sleeping, brother John?
The cock doth crow, to let you know,
if you be wise, tis time to rise.
If you see a barber, shaving a pig,
ask how many hairs to make a wig.
This is the man, all tattered and torn,
a stick in his hand, a stone in his throat.
He promised to buy me some bonny blue
ribbons to bind up my bonny brown hair,
a silver nutmeg, and a golden pear.
Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree
a diller, a dollar, a ten o'clock scholar,
who won't get up to feed the swine,
but sups on strawberries, sugar and cream,
and sits upon cushions to sew a fine seam.
In marble walls as white as milk,
all the trees are bread and cheese.
Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John,
all for the sake of my little nut tree,
he calls for his fiddlers three.
The ants are marching one by one,
five little monkeys jump on his bed,
all bringing a swarm of bees in May.
John takes a stone to throw at their heads,
and grinds up their bones to bake his bread.
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