The Day the Stripes Crossed Over


Little Worm and Pesky Bug packed up for a jaunt

towards a full day’s dawdle

Waved off by Mutter Owl and Nuttery Squirrel

only too glad for respite to pawdle


Wormy wriggles and buggy piddles soon led both

to brightening perches over the river

Where wormy round and buggy feat allowed to lean

in viewing such blurrs as to quiver:


“What? no bold lines around me. What? no dark stripes?”

each strained in vein remark on such dim markers.

“Why such dim outlines, such disappointing pipes?”

each sliding away from such marks as markers.


On in their day of dawdle scoffed Wormy and Buggy,

“We see bold bands, bright markers, yes glinting stripes

on Big Brother Snakey and Loud Lord Beebuggy”

On in their dawdle day to doodle lunch under pipes.


“Oh, see there, see there old skin of Snakey!

“Oh, see there, see there torn wing of Beezy!”

“We puts them on, we boldsy-swellsy intrachey”

“Oh, moany-groany, Mutter Owl calls teasey!”


So at dying light Owlsie and Snouty Palsie

ruffle and stuffle and shuffle

while flipping and flapping almost palsy

in sad mistaken mismarked meal, no truffle.


Now the nightingale sings to her love

“No stripes but your own

“Never wear from above

“The mark not given from your own bone.”


16 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Martin Shone
    Dec 04, 2011 @ 06:26:05

    Well, I like it, but I’m baffled 🙂

    • granbee
      Dec 06, 2011 @ 00:21:27

      Martin, look again at your own gravatar; and you will no longer be baffled!

      • Martin Shone
        Dec 06, 2011 @ 00:28:25

        Still baffled, granbee. A walk in the woods? I am fick aren’t I 🙂

        • granbee
          Dec 06, 2011 @ 00:33:41

          Martin, you bear your own “markings”, right? So did the worm and the bug, yet they wanted to wear what they thought were brighter markings left behind by other creatures. Being mistaken for those other creatures, they were eaten by the owl. See? Read it AGAIN!

  2. Betty
    Dec 04, 2011 @ 09:56:25

    Felt the following last verse in my solar plexis:

    Now the nightingale sings to her love

    “No stripes but your own

    “Never wear from above

    “The mark not given from your own bone.”

    Wow!!!!! Thank you, Granbee. 🙂

  3. cottonbombs
    Dec 05, 2011 @ 12:22:25

    Rose! You’ve written a modern day fairy tale. Well done, they are so rare to stumble upon, yet, your words, like breadcrumbs lead us step by step to the resolution that we are what we are and this nightingale sings to the owl, thanks for the fun flight of letters.

    • granbee
      Dec 06, 2011 @ 00:25:17

      Peter, now I know why I depend on your comments and feedback so much. A modern fairy tale is EXACTLY what I was shooting for. Thanks for the perception! Yes, we do need to wear–and celebrate– our own stripes!

  4. Caddo Veil
    Dec 06, 2011 @ 14:05:00

    I would so love to hear to recite this, Granbee!!

    • granbee
      Dec 07, 2011 @ 02:31:22

      Caddo, you clever girl, how did you know I shuffled around muttering this post to myself as I worked on it? Get your Thanksgiving dinner guest (the one who showered first?) to read it aloud to you! Wouldn’t that be a “stripe of a different color”? (ha!)

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