I lost my tumble bumble on a stick beneath the brook

When I parted with the love note still prodded on the hook

So I grew a cuffle shadle, to cover up my hair

And sold my past for pennies to buy candy at the fair

It’s not so far a walkady hop to the jungle by the road

All you need is a skipping rope and a friendly hairy toad

So I hope you’ll choose to visit along the by and by

And stop to tell me answers when I pretend to question why

Because, or so they tell me this is just what friends are for

And not for gruffle stuffle or hanging lampposts on the door

I’ll mistle when you come and try to forget my name

If you will promise, quiet now, to smile and do the same

RATE THIS CHAPTER!

Click to View Author Guidance

Well there! Wargle on up and bump us a poem, won't you? It mustn't make a lot of sense or your swimming in the wrong bowl of jello.

This is a challenge.

I challenge you.

Write one!

Fog-the-Cat

updated Aug 18 '09 by FogCat