Mouse and Moonbeam, Part 2: Lewis

Riddled by a writing desk,

Oh, Charles, the man behind

Its secrets and a secret world

So very hard to find.

 

What made up his genius

When he said such words?

How can it be that a bat

Can dress up like a bird?

 

A lady’s lamp, a doll-house dress,

Surrounded by mystery;

That man who painted up such worlds,

How clever he must be.

 

What made up his genius

When he said such words?

How can it be that a bat

Can dress up like a bird?

 

And quizzical, he quizzed us all,

With sweet divinity;

He led us on, or told us twice,

But said not that it must be.

 

What made up his genius

When he said such words?

How can it be that a bat

Can dress up like a bird?

 

Oh, wonderful, so unexplainable,

This deserves memorandumity

When as mad as anything now,

We’re reciting nonsense words, you see,

 

Of a mouse and a moonbeam,

Becoming one or same,

Oh, Charles, the master, played it right,

He riddled for my game:

 

What made up his genius

When he said such words?

How can it be that a bat

Can dress up like a bird?

 

Riddled by a writing desk,

Oh, Charles, the man behind

Its secrets and a secret world

So very hard to find.

The End

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