The Gathering Gorm


Bewearied and schlonko, the cloomb-trackle clopped

Gerlit simmet-downs now they'd chapsed without strop.

When spruttly guffed Teebly, "A Ninny, good brubbs!"

Their sprockets all rumpled to spry out his words.


And shoorynuff, there by the side of a toad,

The warmcombling Ninny stood brustling, a-glowed!

It's yag: 'The Rumbamblemapooper and Crow' -

"We bertle bump here for a spell", wibbled Fo.


The Ninn-compeep, Nobby, befrazzled queef tales,

And swore on toast hearty, "Your quarrel stalks vales

From hereby to Fruke, in the wolds to the west,

Where frights he grave Gromsels - O, reflub this quest!"


But at this Jaul's brubbimps rebubbled in growth

And each, to a brubb, then perswollumed an oath

"We brubbs flickanflockle shall none humplebound

'til Jaul's Trement's truckled, come Gromsel or ground"


They wrinkled freep Nobby as Waps quobbled ,"Ale!"

Then set about pleeming their plumbs through the vales

"Gerlit of us", woofed Fo,"with noppy shall trook -

G'shnarp, Paul and Teebly must trickle to Fruke"


"To search for the Gromsel?", sprut Paul, "Are you mad?

This plan is the craziest you've ever had!

And what if we find them both, locked in a duel?!"

Qup Teebly, "Fo, must I take truck with Paul's drool?"


"You must - and we'll not earie more of this triff!

Paul, naff of your cluptrot - the pleme has been quiffed.

Should either spag rumple good wind of the beast,

Send word but stay twicky 'til both spags are heest."


And so with Fo's jumbles harranguing his head,

Jaul slunk aft his brubbs to a pluff Ninny bed

Yet, fore he flet far, felt a squearie-eyed look

From a wrungle-bumped malm in a shadowy crook...


                             *             *             *


Jaul's mamink, belonely and flitterful, gored

A-lighting a crumble for each of her horde

Outside it blew chopsy, a cravenous storm -

When suddy, CRUMCHUDDY! In bargled a gorm!


"Bespeeg me!", it blorted, "What crimms you have pleemed!"

And, wafting a pumpersnump, rindward it squeemed

'Til fully she followed the snick of it's snout

"Crep Grunkle?", she wibbled, "What gibbles your trout?"


"I'll gibble your guddle before this night's out!

For well can I pessom the crimms you're about!"

Sprage Grunkle, a-lathered and spraffing his wheeze,

"Bespeeg me where hiddy my Plekkle, you sleeze!"


"Your Plekkle? But Jaul sprut to truck your trement..."

"O, lies and distrusion!", flim Grunkle's murn rent

Then beary down fretful - frail mamink swallooned!

Enfargled, he gargled, "You pleers!", and was goone. 



The End

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